


The Prism of Worlds

by XTZoltan



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, Gen, Genderfluid Amanda, Jasminka has a demon, Multi, Parallel Universes, Some take a while to show up, Tagged every pairing for every version of the characters in this, Trans Lotte, not a famine demon though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 137,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XTZoltan/pseuds/XTZoltan
Summary: Akko couldn't forget the vision she saw in the Blue Moon Abyss. Is there really a Shiny Akko out there, in another world? The ritual designed to meet her kicks off an AU extravaganza as ten witches are fused with their counterparts from other worlds!Now the witches race to send their visitors home before they lose themselves.  However, some may not want to return.  Some of them may be dangerous.  And some may be willing risk working with Croix, who has plans for them...
Relationships: AU Barbara Parker/Lotte Yanson, AU Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari, Atsuko "Akko" Kagari/Amanda O'Neill, Hannah England/Barbara Parker, Sucy Manbavaran/Lotte Yanson
Comments: 26
Kudos: 49





	1. A Path Untraveled

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this off and on since 2018. It feels good to finally send it into the world!
> 
> This story is set after Episode 13: New Age Magic, and doesn't take the game or any of the manga as canon. A completely different group of witches rescued poor Molly, but our heroines have never had to work together like this before.
> 
> I wasn't sure whether to tag for major character deaths. We see other worlds where characters have died, but the witches we're following are all getting out of this intact.

Luna Nova was bright and warm against the November chill, bustling with students and fairy staff. After a most unusual Samhain festival and the tumult of the fairy workers’ strike (and subsequent riot), school life was slowly returning to something like normal. Discreet black obelisks hummed cheerfully in odd corners of the school: Professor Merides’s new Sorcery Solution System, providing all the magic practicing students, researching professors, and working staff needed. In the end, everyone had gotten what they wanted.

Far above, the New Moon Tower cast a green halo through the hazy night, and dozens of disc-shaped “sorcery units” flitted about its upper levels, tirelessly working on Merides’s new research lab. Despite the mysterious new teacher and her wondrous machines, it was starting to look like a peaceful holiday season. For Akko’s coven, this wasn’t much of a relief. The lack of mayhem only freed them to get back to work.

The room was quiet. Lotte fought a losing battle with her astronomy homework while Sucy had donned a gas mask to work on her prized Doomcap terrarium. Akko had petered out early, as usual, but instead of distracting her roommates or running off to something more exciting, she just flopped back into bed and gazed thoughtfully up at the Shiny Rod. As she turned it from side to side, three of the seven stones down its length caught the light and flashed gold. Four to go…

After a few minutes of fretting and concerned glances, Lotte finally spoke up. “What’s on your mind, Akko?”

“Huh?” Akko blinked out of her haze. “Oh, I was just thinking about the second word I got for this thing. It had a ghost, too, y’know? I wonder if they’re all gonna be ghosts.”

Maybe it was nothing to worry about, but Akko’s pensive mood was strange. Lotte couldn’t help it. “Do you want to tell us about what happened?”

“I think I met one of the Nine Olde Witches,” Akko said. She let the Rod fall to her side. “It was like a dream – a nightmare. She looked like a big old tree, or something, and she was telling me I could _never_ be like Chariot, that I should give up and leave. But then I hit her with an axe, and she suddenly looked like normal, and I saw all kinds of scary stuff – ghosts and monsters and things – and then next thing I knew, Ursula was flying me back up here.”

Lotte stared in slack-jawed horror. “You hit one of the Nine Olde Wiches _with an axe?_ ”

“A magic axe,” Akko said distantly. “I’m pretty sure I was supposed to. She was a tree, and when I said the words, the Shiny Rod turned into an axe, and what else was I supposed to do?”

“Killing an Olde Witch wouldn’t be so easy,” Sucy put in, without looking up from her work. She chuckled. “But wouldn’t it be funny if Akko just murdered one of ‘em? _Whack._ ”

Lotte ignored her. “But it sounds like you passed. That’s good! Right?”

“Yeah,” Akko said, sitting up. “I went down there looking for a shortcut, but I guess I didn’t need it. She offered me to be a witch like Shiny Chariot, up on stage, making everyone happy. All I had to do was give up my memories. And obviously I said no!” She cast an embarrassed look between them. “I mean, what if you guys weren’t there? She was asking me to disappear! And then the words came to me, and,” she lightly swung the Rod overhand. “Akko wins!”

The next word hung heavily in the air until Lotte supplied it. “…but…”

“But I keep thinking about it.” Akko sprang to her feet and started pacing. She was building towards action. “How can you just show me that and expect me to let it go, right? It _grabbed_ me!” Her tone became defensive. “And – and it was real! Like, it wasn’t a lie to test me. She was showing me a me I could be, if I said yes! Like, when I was transforming all over the place at the Samhain Festival, and everyone was laughing – it was like that, but then different, too!”

“Does that mean Shiny Chariot screwed up?” Sucy asked.

Akko stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“She had the Rod before you,” Sucy pointed out, delicately tweezing bugs off of the Doomcap and dropping them in a vial. One of the bugs chittered angrily and waved a foreleg at her until she dropped the next one on top of it. “And she was doing what the Olde Witch showed you. Using the Shiny Rod for her shows, instead of whatever you’re supposed to be doing. So, did she take the test and fail?”

Akko snatched a pillow and whacked Sucy across the head with it, which made her jolt and drive her tweezers deep into the Doomcap’s flesh. Sucy stood and towed Akko and Lotte from the room without a word, then turned to lash caution tape onto the door with her wand. Within, the Doomcap puffed out its spores with a loud squelch.

“I can’t believe you’d say that,” Akko grumped. She drew back her pillow for another swing, but Lotte grabbed it before she could.

Sucy drew her wand around the edge of the door. “Sealed up safe,” she said. “If you’d hit me while I was doing that, I hate to think what could’ve happened.” Her expression suggested she didn’t really hate to think about it at all.

“What would’ve happened to us if we’d stayed in there?” Lotte asked, but then flapped her hands when Sucy’s smile died. “Never mind! Sorry, don’t tell me.”

“Of course Shiny Chariot didn’t fail the test!” Akko insisted. “If _I_ could pass it, she must’ve!”

“If you can’t stop thinking about this other you the spirit showed you,” Lotte said, trying to steer her. “It sounds like it gave you an idea?”

“Yeah, I’m curious about her,” Akko said. “That other me. I want to know what it’d be like to be her – if she’s happy, if she took the test and failed, what she’d think of _me_. You know?”

Sucy smirked. “What _would_ she think if she saw someone like you?”

Akko either missed her insinuation or ignored it. “Right? Isn’t it crazy to think about?”

“It’s strange, you’re right.” Lotte’s gaze drifted down. “Imagining if you’d made a big choice like that differently. I think I know what you mean.”

“Hey, how long do we have to stay out here?” Akko asked. “I have a book I want to show you.”

“It should be safe by now,” Sucy said. “But it’ll still—"

Akko pushed into the room.

“—stink.” Sucy stood impassively as Lotte reeled back. “And it’ll stick to you. You’re gonna be _real_ popular tomorrow.”

“Look at this!” Akko emerged and thrust an open book into Sucy’s face. “Look, the librarian helped me find a book about the kind of magic the spirit did down there, like seeing a world where you’re someone else? And I read up on it, and found out there’s a ritual that’ll let you join your heart with a you from another world, and you can get to know each other!”

“Another world?” Lotte asked, standing on her toes to look over Sucy’s shoulder.

“I don’t really get it, but it’s like they’re not real worlds, but then we aren’t real to them, either. The other world’s not a place you can go, it’s just another way the world could’ve been?” Akko took a deep breath and sprinted back into the room, then came back with another book to shove at Sucy, who backed up this time. “Anyway, I found that ritual in another book—this one, here. And it looks really simple, doesn’t it? I had to learn the glyphs, but it turns out the encyclopedia we got for Professor Pisces’ class has all but one of ‘em, so I asked her about the last one, and it was really easy!”

“This is really important to you,” Lotte said in a subdued tone, eyes wide and wondering. “You put all of that together… is-is this what you did instead of your math homework yesterday?”

“Yup! _Phaidoari Afairynghor_ , right? I have to work hard if I’m gonna… wait, we had math homework?”

“You looked something up that’s not on a trading card,” Sucy said. “I’m impressed, Akko.”

Akko pulled the book back and half-turned away, pouting. “You’re being so mean today!”

“I meant it that time,” Sucy insisted. “I’m actually impressed.”

Lotte caught their sleeves. “Oh, no! All of our clothes are in there!”

“I want to do it,” Akko said, once they’d claimed basins in the laundry room. She stood to put her back into scrubbing, raising her voice over the sloshing. “The book said the New Moon Tower’s in the perfect place to reach out of our world, so I picked out a room on the second floor nobody uses, right above that little chapel. I wanna do the ritual there. If the other me wants to talk, then I can find out what it’s like to be her, and she can hear about me!”

“Would she want to know?” Sucy asked. She raised a hand to block Akko’s angry splash. “That wasn’t an insult. She’ll be curious, sure. But if she failed the test, would she want to hear that?”

“No, no, see, you’re making it a loop. She isn’t her because she took the test and failed it! The test was for _me_ , with the chance to be her!” Akko said, then narrowed her eyes. “I think. The book said the worlds don’t split when we make choices, they’re just out there being weird. She’s a me I could be if this world was like hers, so there could be space aliens there, or maybe magic’s different.”

“That’s not a loop? If she’s showing you an Akko you could be if you failed, then how is she even you if she didn’t…” Sucy winced and touched her temple. “Never mind.”

Akko grinned. “Am I really smart enough to make your head hurt? I’m liking this _Afairynghor_ stuff!”

“Are you sure you should?” Lotte asked. She started wringing a skirt out, but then winced at the smell and slapped it back onto her washboard.

“Well, why not?”

“It’s incredibly dangerous! Right, Sucy?”

Sucy shrugged. “I kind of want to see what happens to her.”

“I knew I could count on you, Sucy!” Akko crowed.

“C-can you wait, at least?” Lotte asked desperately. “There’ll be a new moon on Friday. Can we wait for that?”

“That’d be, what, four days? Come on, why?”

“You went down beneath the chapel on the night of a blue moon, right? So the spirit’s magic was activated by moonlight! If we wait, then we can make sure your ritual doesn’t disturb her. She wouldn’t like that, would she?”

Akko started to reply with a cocky grin, but then that distant look came back, and she shivered. “Yeah, you know what? Sure. Let’s – rrrgh, I was getting fired up to run out and do it tonight, but yeah, let’s wait.”

Lotte sagged in relief.

“You switched to ‘we’ in there,” Akko added, grinning at her sideways. “I never tried to make you guys come. That was you.”

“I just assumed,” Lotte said, keeping her eyes closed. “You always drag us along anyway.”

“I never said I’d…” Sucy started.

“You want to see what happens to her, right?”

Sucy shrugged. “Alright.”

“Thanks, guys,” Akko said.

For a time, the only sound was sloshing and scrubbing. Even Akko was quiet.

“I think…” Lotte said. She lifted the blouse she was working on and gave it a sniff. “I think it’s starting to come out.”

“Or you’re just getting used to the smell,” Sucy suggested.

Lotte moaned and kept scrubbing.

* * *

The first snow came two nights later. Dozens of students broke curfew to fly amid the whirling flakes, gathering snowballs with great magic scoops to throw at each other. Amanda was one of the few to escape detention when Nelson and Finnegan got around to rounding them up, and slipped back into her dorm room to find an unexpected guest. Wangari, star reporter of the Luna Nova News Network, was sitting at their card table with Jasminka, sharing a plate of fig bars with her.

Constanze was nowhere to be seen. Probably busy in her workshop.

“Evening,” Jasminka said.

“Your roommates are _so nice!_ ” Wangari cried. “You really lucked out, Amanda.”

Amanda blinked at her a few times. She couldn’t tell if that was a veiled jab. She was used to listening to Wangari’s voice blaring over campus events; in person, it was somehow both gentler and more striking. “Guess I did,” she finally said. “What’s going on, Wangari?”

“I’ve got hot tip for you!” Wangari said. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Amanda echoed, pulling the chair from her desk up to join them.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, Kimberly – she’s our writer, you know – did some research in the old archives and dug up the location of an artifact the school lost track of,” Wangari said. “A _Ley Spike,_ like they had before Warda Bandorella invented the first sorcerer’s stone! You poke a hole in the air over a ley line and magical energy just _gushes_ out. Real scary stuff, especially in a place like this. What would you say to that?”

“I’d ask why you’re telling me,” Amanda replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m listening, but why not just put it in your paper or something?”

“If somebody comes to _you_ first, it’s obvious why,” Wangari said. Her smile took away most of the bite. Come to think of it, Amanda didn’t remember her ever expressing an opinion on recreational burglary.

“You don’t want the school to get it?”

Wangari waggled her hand. “I’m not thrilled with the way they’ve handled recent crises. And we can’t say so in the paper, but, well, the fact that they lost it in the first place doesn’t fill any of us at LNN with confidence!”

“So, you come to someone who can sneak it out of wherever it is, and…” Amanda leaned on the table. “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? I’m bein’ honest because I like you, Wangari – I’m just here to stir the pot. If you want someone you can _trust,_ I’m not your girl.”

“Maybe,” Wangari agreed. “What would you do with it if you found it? This won’t make it into the paper, I’m asking personally – if I give you this info, whatever you do with it will be on me.”

Amanda opened her mouth to say something flippant, but then paused, really considering it. What _would_ she do? Before she could come up with an answer, Constanze’s bed popped open and launched her into a three-point landing on the table between them.

Wangari yelped and tipped back in her chair, but Jasminka caught her before she could fall. Once she was stable, she noticed that everyone was staring at her, even Conz, who had primly stepped down from the table and drawn up a chair. “What?” she asked. “That was startling!”

“You didn’t narrate it,” Amanda said.

“Oh, give me a break, I’m off the clock,” Wangari said. “Honestly, you guys! I’m not _always_ in announcer mode. And, hey, Jasna, can I just stay here?”

Jasminka shrugged and drew her chair closer, and Wangari nestled into her.

“But what’s the plan, Amanda? If you got this spike, what would you do with it?”

“So, my first idea was to just wave it in the Headmistress’s face, show her what hot shit I am and maybe get expelled?” Amanda spread her hands. “But then there was that whole thing with the fairies, and now I’m thinking I give it to one of them and see what they do with it. I’ll bet that’d still piss the teachers off.”

“The fairies would like having another way to access the ley line, for sure,” Wangari said. “I wonder if that’d disrupt work at the school, if the fairies knew they didn’t have to depend on it.”

“Plan A was getting expelled, so that’d be fine with me.”

“Ha! I can’t tell if that’s selfish or selfless. And don’t tell me, I like the mystery!” Wangari slapped a floorplan onto the table between them and drew her wand over it. “ _Noch Dadh._ ” The empty map filled out with a surprisingly detailed graphite rendering of the tiles, furniture, and boxes within, with a red circle around one stack in particular. The stairs were sealed solidly with brick; the only ingress was a tunnel that lead to somewhere off-campus. “This is the storage space under the New Moon Tower – right under that little chapel. Students aren’t allowed in, of course, ‘cause they lost the records of what’s in there. We think the spike is in a magic-sealed box here or so. It should be hard to miss.”

Amanda looked the floorplan up and down. “Why’s it shaped like that, with the big wall in the middle?”

“Kim thinks there’s a secret passage you access from the chapel,” Wangari said. “But she hasn’t found out anything about it.”

“If it’s like the other forbidden areas in the tower, getting in should be no problem. In fact, why don’t I pop over and take a look?”

“Wait – I’ve got another tip for you. They say there’s a ghost that lives under the chapel, and you can reach her home on the night of a blue moon. That’s one reason nobody goes to that storage space, you see.”

“Is a blue moon coming up?”

“Just past.” Wangari leaned forward and held her wand up under her chin, conjuring an eerie green light to cast up over her face. “You don’t want to bother this ghost. She knows everything there is to know, they say, and she can steal your soul with just a thought – and then _put something else in_. You turn into a totally different person, and nobody ever knows!”

“Nice!” Amanda burst out laughing, but then trailed off awkwardly when she made eye contact with Jasminka. Her expression was mellow as ever, but something about it… “Wh-what?”

“Nothing,” Jasminka said, and held out her plate. “Fig bar?”

“I hate those things.”

Constanze took one.

“New moon’s coming up in two days,” Wangari continued, taking two. “You can go out under cover of dark, and the chapel’s magic should be quiet. Isn’t that convenient? You won’t have to risk disturbing the ghost!”

“Wait, are you trying to convince me to do this the _safe_ way?”

Wangari’s smile faltered. “Well, yeah?”

“This is a heist, though! C’mon, the _whole point_ is to…”

“I won’t help you if you don’t,” Jasminka announced.

Amanda frowned. “Why are you so serious, all of a sudden?”

“Bad things live in the Earth,” Jasminka said, resting a hand on her belly. “You shouldn’t give yourself to them.”

“I, I could still,” Amanda started, then sat back and crossed her arms. “Fine, jeez. Making me _stop_ and _think._ Pencil a burglary in for the day after tomorrow, then!”

Jasminka nodded, satisfied.

“Whatever.” Amanda’s scowl became a smirk. “And you know, Jasna, I never even asked you to help. But since you’re offering…”

* * *

The next night disappointed everyone with a return to cold, lashing rain. It drove the witches into their rooms and filled the dim halls with a tense rumble, a drumroll building up to something awful. At least, that’s how it felt to Diana. She’d vanquished her homework hours before, and now her desk was strewn with charts and calculations that had culminated in a simple diagram that she’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes. Normally, it was easy to set aside a job well done and move on to the next, but this time…

“What’s wrong, Diana?” Hannah asked. She’d wandered around the bookcase that separated their beds and drawn up a chair. “You’re really out of it, today.”

“Family troubles,” Diana said shortly.

Hannah set her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands. “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing,” Diana said, then amended to, “It’s private.” When Hannah didn’t move or react, she finally sighed and relented. “My Aunt Daryl has been acting as the head of the House of Cavendish these past few years, and it seems like every letter I get from home is about some new disaster caused by her greed or carelessness. Yesterday, I got word that we’ve had to close down the estate hospital and discharge all of its patients. That was the _last vestige_ of our family doing anything to live up to M—” Diana noticed her volume rising and stopped short. “She’s turning us into a family of parasites, and all I’ve been able to do is sit here and watch.”

“What an asshole! Is there anything we can do?”

Diana considered commenting on the “we,” but let it go. “It was in my mother’s will was that I would ascend when I was ready, so I should… what?”

“Your mother’s—you never said your—” Hannah sputtered, flailing. “I’m – I’m so sorry!”

“Thank you,” Diana said blankly, wrong-footed, then deliberately warmed her voice. “Please, Hannah, don’t worry about me. It was a long time ago, and I’ve grieved. She’s a happy memory.” The words felt artificial and rehearsed, but they were true enough. There was no need to go into the more complicated parts, or how the past-tense wasn’t strictly accurate, or the feeling of getting lost in memory, simultaneously weighed down and lifted…

“Okay,” Hannah said, shaky but recovering. “I-I just realized, you don’t really talk about yourself.”

“Except to boast,” Diana deadpanned.

“Oh, sure.” Hannah snickered. That was the trick with her: jokes.

“Anyway,” Diana said firmly. “There will be a Venusian eclipse in January, which means that it will be possible to perform the House of Cavendish ascension ritual and properly become the head of the family. I suspect that Daryl is going to try to perform the ascension ritual herself, and… continue down her path, with the full powers of the house’s head. Or fail and die, which I _also_ don’t want to happen. So, if I’m going to outwit her and carry out my mother’s will, I might need to try something underhanded.”

“She’ll never expect that from you!”

“It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to,” Diana agreed.

“And that’s your trick?” Hannah asked, indicating the diagram.

“This is a spell that my great grandmother designed,” Diana said. “It’s an astral lens that distorts the light of the moon and stars to ‘trick’ ritual sites into acting like some astrological phenomenon is overhead. A planetary alignment, say, or a blue moon.” Diana’s expression lightened a little. It was a grim topic, but she liked the story. “My great grandmother was able to slip onto the ascension ritual site with some allies and perform it a week early, confounding her brother’s assassins. Of course, the scheme only worked in the first place because she was judged worthy by Beatrix the… what?”

“A…assassins?” Hannah asked weakly.

“There are no assassins now, obviously! Daryl is…” Diana trailed off, lost in a blizzard of adjectives. How could you describe a relationship like that to someone outside of the family? “…she’ll try to stop me, but she’d never hurt me.”

“Okay,” Hannah said, bouncing back. “Great! So all you have to do is go and make this lens, do the thing, and then you’re the family head?”

“W-well,” Diana said. Hearing it in such a breezy tone dazed her, a little. “The ascension ritual will be a challenge. And beyond that, the idea of becoming the family head is daunting.”

“I just know you’re up to it!”

“So do I!” Diana snapped, then took a slow breath. That shouldn’t have irritated her so much. She really was on edge. “Intellectually, that is. Facing the reality of it is what frightens me. I… may have an overconfident side, but I can’t really be ready for headship until I’m there. Who could?”

“Right,” Hannah said, chastened. “Sorry.”

Diana gave her a quick smile. “Also, apart from the ascension ritual, this spell is dangerous.”

“Really?” Hannah put on a confused face. She probably thought that explaining the technical aspects would help Diana to cool down. Good bet. “It doesn’t _sound_ dangerous.”

“It depends on what the lens has to filter.” Diana swiped her marker twice, suggesting a beam of magic flying into her diagram, then quickly sketched a spray of lightning on the far side. “A spell going through it would be warped and scattered. Ambient magical energy can radiate from it in unpredictable ways. It can even distort magic within your body if you’re too close. I’ve designed one that should work in the chapel at the base of the New Moon Tower – a test. I’ve gotten permission from Headmistress Holbrooke to carry out the experiment, but now I’m… not sure that I’m brave enough to.”

“What if me and Barbara helped you?”

Diana meant to dismiss the idea out of hand, but, meeting Hannah’s earnest gaze, found herself asking, “You would?”

“Of course we—!” Hannah interrupted herself with an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll ask Barbara. But I know she’ll say yes – you know how worried she gets!”

Diana nodded. “The time will be tomorrow night, if the sky is clear - it will be a new moon, so the power beneath the chapel should be at its lowest ebb. I’ll use the lens to filter starlight into the light of a blue moon, which should cause a magical reaction, but not enough to open the path to the ghost’s home.”

“There’s a _ghost?_ ” Hannah cried. “Like Vajarois?”

“Worse.” Diana looked down at her diagram again. “That’s another reason I was worrying.”

“Headship of an ancient magical family, two scary rituals, and a ghost,” Hannah said. “No wonder you’re staring into space! I’d be crying – I can’t handle ghosts. I mean, unless they’re eating Akko.”

Diana snorted despite herself.

“But that won’t stop us, will it? So, what will you need us to do?”

“I’ll wait until Barbara is back to explain it to you both,” Diana said, then let her shoulders relax. “And thank you, Hannah. Truly.”

“Ha, come on, Diana. You’ve been here for us all this time, it’s about time we did something for you!”

“You think you haven’t…?” Diana started, then looked away. As always, her throat had closed instead of letting her get sentimental.

Hannah chuckled and went back to her homework.

* * *

The chosen night was clear and bitterly cold. Akko huddled close behind Lotte as Red Team slipped from the window on their brooms and ghosted to the base of the New Moon Tower. Sucy flew ahead and crunched a black-capped shroud-shroom in her teeth, which muted the light and sound of her magic when she delicately opened the latch from the outside and let them in.

“Nice!” Akko said, whapping her shoulder in passing.

The room was little more than a stone cube with a few empty bookshelves on one wall. In happier days, Luna Nova would have been full to bursting, but now the tower was riddled with disused spaces like this. No wonder Croix had had such an easy time getting space for her research lab upstairs.

Lotte knelt and set her lantern down, and a squad of flickering fairy spirits tumbled out. While most of them toddled about and found their bearings, a one-eyed spirit saluted Lotte and gave a serious little honk. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice,” she said sweetly. “Could you please keep watch and warn us if anyone comes this way?”

The fairy commander saluted again and got its subordinates in marching order. In seconds, they were deployed all over the second floor and hidden away, leaving the witches in darkness once more.

“It’s so quiet in here,” Akko whispered, grinning. “Isn’t it creepy?”

Lotte glanced over her shoulder nervously. “Yeah… my ears are ringing.”

“ _Hello!_ ” Sucy called, making her companions jump. Her voice fell flatly, without even an echo. “I thought so,” she continued in a conversational tone. “These rooms are soundproofed, so you can close them off for your experiments. I had a room like that, back home. You could scream at the top of your lungs in there, and nobody outside would hear a thing.”

“What did you, uh, use it for?” Akko asked.

Sucy just smiled with half-lidded eyes.

“Do you want to show us the magic circle, Akko?” Lotte asked. “We can help you draw it.”

“Oh! Right! Look, I made stencils!” Akko pulled a bedsheet from her pack and spread it out over the floor, revealing that a few swoops and curls had been cut out of the middle. “Sarah let me use her fabric scissors. Turns out there are all kinds of things to help with rituals that they don’t let us use in class. So here, let me—” The others stumbled back from the blue paint spluttering and coughing from Akko’s wand as she waved her arm at random. The spell made a total mess, but then she swept the stencil away to reveal perfect lines and glyphs on the floor. “See? Pretty great, right? I just have two more! I just – oh – I didn’t think of how we’d line ‘em up.”

“I can help with that,” Lotte said. “May I see the pattern?”

Between the three of them, it just took a few minutes to line up and lay down the red and green stencils, plastering a serviceable magic circle onto the floor, like a Celtic knot full of harsh, thorny angles. Nine glyphs were arrayed around the circle in groups of three, leaving spaces between for three ritualists to stand. They took their places and Lotte cast the first spell, throwing a sparkling green canopy over their heads. “ _Tectumbrae!_ ”

“I’ve seen something like this before,” Sucy said contemplatively. “The style looks familiar.”

“I’ve got it all figured out,” Akko said, and produced a sheaf of notes from her pack. “My other self had better watch out, ‘cause I’ve got the whole plan right here! Lotte just has to hold that spell to block the Sorcerer’s Stone until you and me finish the chant and the circle starts drawing power, then she can let it go, and I step into the circle and trance out. Easy!”

Lotte and Sucy shared a wide-eyed look.

“Are you sure you’re not already some other Akko?” Sucy asked.

Akko rounded on her angrily, but then got a thoughtful look. “You know, there’s something different about this. Because… nobody was getting on my case ‘cause I couldn’t do it the way they wanted, so I could do my own thing. It’s like there’s usually a cloud in my brain, and stuff like this clears it up. Is that weird?”

“It’s _something_ ,” Sucy said.

“Can we talk about it after the ritual?” Lotte suggested. “Sorry – I can’t hold this spell forever!”

“Right! Sorry sorry sorry!” Akko glanced to her notes and said, “Once I start the chant, I can’t stop until the circle’s charged up. C’mon, guys, let’s do it in one!”

“Because if we mess it up,” Sucy said, accepting the sheets with her part. “We’ll probably die.”

Lotte sighed.

Akko was unfazed, lifting her notes like a libretto. “Here we go!”

* * *

The tunnel leading to the forbidden storage room opened into the woods a kilometer from the school, also forbidden. Green Team gathered at the tunnel’s mouth, a barred gate with a simple chain and padlock.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Amanda asked, turning to their tag-along. “Last chance to back out!”

Wangari blew a cloud of steam and stomped. “Let’s go!” she said brightly. “Anything to get out of this cold!”

“Ha! Go ahead, Jasna.”

Jasminka took the padlock in hand and destroyed it with a quick pull. When the gate still wouldn’t open, she casually wrenched it out of the tunnel altogether. Constanze ducked past her in a pair of high-tech goggles and held out her arms to stop them at the edge of the tunnel’s security spells. Once they were all in, Jasna carefully replaced the grate and Amanda repaired it with a quick “ _Sosomme Tidiare!_ ”

“That spell should have triggered something!” Wangari whispered.

“I’m talented,” Amanda replied loudly. “What are we looking at, Conz?”

Constanze had set her heavy backpack down and deployed a trio of drones from it, metal orbs with softly buzzing rotors that she directed from a clunky, ruggedized laptop. They drifted down the tunnel, trailing a faint mist that revealed layers of crisscrossing red beams. Amanda wandered up behind Conz and watched over her shoulder. “Looks like we can pause there… and there?”

Wangari danced in place and rubbed her arms miserably until Jasminka produced a thermos of hot cocoa and offered her a cup. “I love you guys,” she said, sounding genuinely choked up.

“Okay, girls,” Amanda said. “Get your brooms ready. We’re gonna do this in bursts. Me and Conz picked out two places in the tunnel where there’s room for all of us to rest, so I’m gonna slip in and disable the security spell so you can get to the first place. I can blank it out for three seconds before the spell realizes something’s up, so you’ve got to _zoom_. When you’re with me, I’ll disable it again and let you go to the next spot, and that’s how we’ll get through, understand? Conz first, then Wangari, then Jasna. And sorry, Jasna, if I have to push you, I will.”

“Sure,” Jasminka said. “Cocoa?”

“Yeah, better warm up before we get in there,” Amanda agreed, accepting a cup.

* * *

With the headmistress’s blessing, Blue Team was able to walk right in the front door. The chapel was quiet and empty, as always; it hadn’t seen a service in 300 years, and nobody was even sure who (or what) it was dedicated to. Diana cleared the floor of dust with a sweep of her wand, then effortlessly conjured a series of pigment balls that burst into an intricate magic circle, purple, blue, gold. She strode around the circle, eyeing it critically, then gestured her companions forward without looking.

Barbara patted Hannah’s shoulder bracingly. They both got a little nervous when Diana went cold like this – she wouldn’t hurt them, of course, but it meant that they were doing something dangerous enough to take all of her focus.

“That was the easy part,” Diana said as they took their places. “I’ll speak the incantations to create the lens, then you’ll be able to help hold its shape. Remember the spells I taught you to manipulate it, and you’ll be fine.” She produced a thaumometer from her breast pocket and guided it to the center of the magic circle with a telekinesis spell. Its gauge dropped to zero as soon as she released it. “We’ll be watching for the magical reaction on this - I’ve calibrated it to account for the lens itself, so anything else will be the path to the ghost’s home reacting.”

“Shouldn’t we check around more?” Hannah asked nervously. “Make sure there’s nothing to mess with the spell?”

“I prepared everything in advance.”

A tiny shadow raced along the wall and Barbara’s head whipped around following it. She didn’t register much more than an odd little diamond silhouetted in the doorway, like somebody had thrown a child’s block into the air. Or had she imagined it? “Something’s wrong,” she said urgently.

Focusing on the start of her ritual, Diana hadn’t noticed. “If you’ve lost your nerve, step back and let me do this alone.”

Barbara gritted her teeth, looking back and forth anxiously.

“We should at least make sure nobody’s around,” Hannah insisted.

Diana cast her wand to the ceiling and said, “ _Lahma Suilan_.” Green light flared above it like a torch, then spread out in vivid blue streamers that crawled over the walls like the filaments in a plasma globe. Barbara flinched as one passed through her head, but all it did was note her presence and make a tiny blue stick figure flash into being above the hovering flare. The streamers quickly broke off and crawled out of the chapel, spreading through the lower floors of the tower.

Below, Diana’s spell spread into the storage room just as Amanda was reaching for the Ley Spike’s box. She skittered back with a curse, and Constanze’s drones fired a volley of crackling green bolts that broke the streamers apart.

“Nice, Conz!” Amanda said. “I didn’t think the security here would be so heavy duty!”

Constanze gave her a stern thumbs-up and focused on her controls again.

“Was that security?” Jasminka asked. “It looked like someone cast a spell.”

“Yeah,” Wangari agreed. “Might’ve been one of the _Lahma_ spells?”

“Yeah, but who’d be out here at 2am? Let’s just hurry up and find that spike.” 

Above, a trio of spirits saw the web of blue light gliding up the steps and started to flee, squeaking in panic. The grizzled fairy commander stomped past them and pointed with a heroic honk. By its command, the spirits each threw themselves into a streamer and drank up its power like so much spaghetti, gripping it in their little flippers to guide it away from Lotte. They finished slurping the spell up a mere meter from the door to the ritual site, and then collapsed into an exhausted pile with a chorus of moans and burps. None thought to report to Lotte, though. The problem was taken care of, wasn’t it? And she already looked so worried!

“Nobody,” Diana said as the spell completed.

“Of-of course,” Hannah said, embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have doubted…”

“It was a good idea to check,” Diana admitted. “But now, we have to hurry.”

“But what about…?” Barbara started, looking towards the door, but broke off when Diana turned to her. She could read the impatience behind her friend’s calm gaze. “Never mind. We’re ready.”

Diana began the chant in a soft, even tone, and the lens slowly took form, warping and shimmering as Hannah and Barbara wove it from her voice. It was only visible as a distortion in the air, but it was still beautiful – at least to them. Maybe it was because they knew the work that was going into it. Finally, it cast a pall of silvery light onto the chapel floor and the thaumometer jumped. 

“It worked,” Diana said, stunned. “I can do it! It’s going to…”

“Uh… D-Diana?” Barbara quavered, as the floor started to turn lime green. “Isn’t the light supposed to be coming from above?”

“What do you mean, coming from—?” Diana started, then gasped as the thaumometer burst into tinkling fragments. “No! What—?”

Below, Amanda was holding the Ley Spike aloft and soaking in the praise of her fellow burglars. Suddenly, it wobbled in the air and she shifted her weight to keep a firm grip on it.

“What is that, an endzone dance?” Wangari asked lightly.

“No, this thing’s kinda jinking around,” Amanda said, gripping it with both hands. “Like you know how when you’re going really fast on your broom, and you hold your hand out and it won’t stay steady ‘cause of the wind? It’s like that.”

“Oh.” Wangari dug for her notebook. “I should be taking notes. We’ll want people to know what happened if it kills us all.”

Jasminka’s reaction was more practical. She took two swift steps towards Amanda and reached out to take the spike.

“What are you—?” Amanda yelped, pulling back, but as the spike’s tip turned downward, the resistance broke and it plunged into the skin of the world. “SHIT!”

A vivid green beam lashed up through the ceiling and Amanda fell sprawling, leaving the Spike embedded in thin air. Jasminka took another step towards it, but then fell back as the beam redoubled with a roar beneath hearing. Constanze kicked her laptop away before it burst into sparks and flame, and Wangari avidly bent over her notebook, recording their unfolding doom.

Above, the beam struck Blue Team’s astral lens dead center and exploded in a blinding flower of light. Hannah screamed and set one foot out of the circle, but held her ground. Shielding her eyes, Diana froze on the verge of giving her next order – she’d prepared for everything that could possibly go wrong, but this was _impossible_. Shock had blasted her apart.

“What do we do?” Barbara wailed.

 _They’re counting on me!_ Diana’s mind clicked back together. “B-bend it! Make the lens concave!”

Despite their terror, Hannah and Barbara joined her in reshaping the astral lens between them. Instead of spreading out, the beam was now focused on a single point directly overhead, in an unused room where nobody would be hurt.

Above, Akko had just finished her chant, and crossed her arms proudly as the magic circle lit up beneath them. “Look at all that power!” she crowed. “That’s more like it!”

Lotte grunted and bent her knees, as though dropping her weight into the canopy overhead. “Something’s not right!” she said. “It’s coming from the wrong way! Why is the power coming from _below?_ ”

The circle flared, as expected, then flared again, then just kept getting brighter. The paint started to pop and burst into flame, but the circle remained beneath, steadily scorching into the stone. The center was already blindingly bright; something was focusing an incredible amount of power there, and their ritual was pulling it into the world.

“Call the ritual off!” Lotte cried. “Dispel it!”

“Okay, I—how do I—?” Akko flipped frantically through her notes. “I just know I looked up how to—!”

The circle burst with a glassine _crack_ and shredded their canopy in a blast of magical shrapnel that condensed into a cloud of wisps overhead and kept growing brighter. Ten green suns hung over their heads, glaring down through three floors of impetuous witches, and then each became a spotlight on a different one, burning away all obstacles and enveloping her in a blinding shell.

“Well, now,” Sucy said, grinning.

“ _Diana!_ ” Hannah shrieked, reaching out to her.

“Oh, for—!” Amanda snarled.

And then—

* * *

—they were gone.

They’d become beams of light shining through an infinite prism, spearing through the crystal planes of a million worlds. Or rather, the witches themselves were tiny sparks that had formed from their beams striking the plane that held Luna Nova, and now they were free to race out through others, dancing past their fellow sparks. Each was safely enfolded in a private universe of blazing green light, body, clothes, and all, gazing out into other selves they might have been and other homes they might have had as the ritual carried them far away.

Akko glimpsed the self she’d wanted to meet, then shot past her, then a singing pirate, a plucky reporter, an Akko in a spacesuit striding on what looked like an elliptical machine alongside Andrew… they kept coming! She recognized bits and pieces of each scene in the manner of dreams, but they shot by before she could make sense of them. She fought monsters? She healed sick children? She made video games? “Wait,” she cried. “How do I steer? What do I dooooo?”

A quiet voice drifted through her thoughts, inflectionless but warm. _Who do you want to be?_ The ritual was doing its job! Her mental image of Shiny Akko was broken up by a whisper of fear as she plunged further and further from home, and the worlds grew ever more alien around her. How would she find her way back? _Would_ she? “No, come on!” she told herself. “You just have to be brave!” 

The voice fell quiet and she came to an abrupt stop. She’d struck another Akko and held fast, two sparks meeting and flaring together. They cried out in unison, no, with one voice, and Akko fell back to the stone floor. “Hello, other me, do you want to…?” she asked dazedly, realized that she was too late, and then went out like a light.

Lotte plummeted through the dimensions limply, hardly noticing them, or the ritual’s voice. “Oh, I never should have let this happen! I wish I’d put my foot down! Why am I always such a weakling? Why can’t I be someone who…?” Suddenly, she was.

“This isn’t the worst trip I’ve had,” Sucy mused, relaxing into the flight. Somehow, the parade of alternate Sucies felt familiar, but she couldn’t place the memory. “That shroud-shroom must’ve been stronger than I thought! I wonder if I’ll get the munchies this time, too.” At that moment, she collided with a Sucy who _definitely_ had the munchies.

Wangari was so amazed that she forgot to be scared. She had a hard time focusing on herself in each tableau, instead looking to the amazing worlds surrounding them. “I wish…” she said, startled by her own voice. “Look at all of that! I wish I could see them all!” She almost didn’t notice when she joined a Wangari who felt the same way. Or had, once.

Amanda thrashed and struggled. “What the hell is this?” she demanded. “I don’t care! Let me off! I have a job to finish!” Her determination and ambition shone from plane to plane until she hit another Amanda with the same heart.

Jasminka knew from experience what to do when spirited away by malevolent magic. This didn’t seem so bad, though, and the whirlwind of Jasnas it showed her was fascinating. “It’s like a menu,” she observed. “But I never asked to be served!” Zooming past a masseuse, a chef, and the security chief on a spaceship, her gaze fell on an imposing figure standing from a crystal throne and casting her hands over a crowd of kneeling, armored figures. “Ooh! Who’s _that?_ ”

Constanze understood the ritual’s request instantly. It sounded just like the silent electronic voices of her stanbots, and it was every bit as simple-minded. Who did she want to be? She tapped for her headset out of reflex and answered in a wordless burst of associations. It seemed like an oddly philosophical question, but her answer was accepted.

“Diana! Diana, where are you?” Hannah wailed. “Sh-she’s not here! Okay. I can handle this. I can handle this! I don’t need her!” And indeed, there were many Hannahs across many worlds who didn’t need Diana. Before she could say another word, she became one of them.

“Am I dying?” Barbara wondered, more bemused than frightened. By chance, she shone into another Barbara who was wondering the same thing, with the same mild tone. They would find out together.

Diana tried to keep a cool head and think her way out, but Hannah’s panicked cry had been a knife in her heart. A legion of Dianas shone all around her against a universe of amazing vistas, and yet all she could do was turn inward. She’d caused this. Hannah and Barbara looked up to her and trusted her, and now they’d come here in the middle of the night and cast dangerous, powerful magic with nothing but her word… _How could you let this happen? Unforgivable! You arrogant, preening moron! You’ve killed your friends!_

“I have to…” The ritual’s request threaded through her self-recrimination, a dry, needling voice she couldn’t make sense of. “I didn’t want… I can’t…” With all of that noise filling her, it was impossible to complete a thought. Finally, she clutched her head and snarled, “Just _stop!_ ” And so, it did. The fear, guilt, and anger were gone, but their energy remained, humming deep in her chest. She collapsed into cold, electric peace.


	2. Pleased to Meet You

_Memory – The World of Dame Kagari_

Two moons hung high in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the thick forests and jagged mountains of Starhold. By their light, a young Knight Errant picked her way down a narrow, jackknifing path above a mountain pass. She was small but strongly built, and radiated confidence even in her careful descent. Freed from her helmet, long brown hair stirred in the wind with her pale red cloak. Her only other armor was a carefully polished breastplate and pair of gauntlets, and the only mark of her allegiance was a white plush ferret dangling from her belt by a hind leg, felt tongue flapping with each swing.

After a long and perilous quest, Dame Kagari had finally defeated the treacherous Sir Blackwell and recovered the Treasure of Goblin Town. She was cold, battered, and exhausted, but it was all worth it when she strode down Main Street, held the wooden chalice aloft, and called out, "Hey! I got your treasure!"

The goblins on watch blew their horns and the whole town turned out with a cheer. The celebration only briefly focused on her; when a party started in Goblin Town, it always became a general event. Children capered and played, men and women danced in various combinations, and at least three bands tried to start up at the same time. Most of the citizens didn't know about the chalice or its significance, but they caught the mood from those who did, and they'd take any excuse. Robed priests arrived at Kagari's quiet corner to accept the cup, and the mayor followed with a big pouch of gold.

"Oh, no, I could never—!" Kagari was interrupted by a sustained growl from her stomach, and sheepishly accepted the pouch. "I guess I've been on the road for a while, huh?"

"You Errants," the Goblin Mayor said, shaking his head. "You never know your limits. We posted a reward, so you're getting the reward. And we're feeding you before you leave, you understand?"

Kagari laughed weakly. "Thanks."

"You got a place to say tonight?"

"I have a friend down the mountain. It's been a while, so she'll be thrilled to see me!"

Kagari's friend down the mountain was not thrilled to see her.

"Look at you!" Luonnotar cried. "You're filthy! You're _hurt!_ "

The hedge witch was only a few centimeters shorter than Kagari, but seemed much smaller, lost in colorful robes, flyway hair, a towering hat, and round glasses that shrank her eyes into bright, beady sapphires. She grabbed Kagari's wrist and pulled her into a cozy, fragrant hut, lit by the glimmering bodies of fairy spirits perched on every surface. They'd arrived when Luon sang her vespers, but now scurried and cowered from her scolding tone.

"I tried to send a letter ahea—" Kagari started.

"Into the sauna! Go, go!" Luon insisted, propelling her out the back and towards a small adjoining lodge with little pushes. It was like being rolled over by a dandelion seed. Before Kagari could get a word in edgewise, a gentle tornado had pulled her armor and clothes away, dashed water over her, and deposited her onto a towel on the sauna's cedar bench. Luon poured some water over the hot stones, then sat across from her with a long sigh. If she looked small with her robes, she was positively wispy without. The steam beaded on her long eyelashes and weighed her hair down.

For a time, they just sat in the heat and listened to the furnace crackling.

"This is nice," Kagari said. "Thanks."

"Let me see your shoulder," Luon replied, and crossed to carefully set her fingertips on Kagari's muscular arm. "That didn't come from a forged blade. A tusk? It can't have healed more than a week ago, and here you are, on the trail again. What happened?"

"Uhh, last week," Kagari said, eyes drifting to the ceiling. "The Great Boar of Mount Rastavan got around my breastplate; I wasn't even there to fight him, so I just ran. I used a lifeblood potion from that spooky potion-seller with the pink hair, the one who won't sell me her strongest potions? Fixed me right up. Mostly. I can still use my sword-arm, anyway, so it's no big deal!"

"I see," Luon said unhappily, and sat again.

After a few seconds, Kagari tried again. "How… have you been?"

"You've changed, Akko," Luon said. "Ever since you won the Lady Cavendish's favor."

Kagari might have blushed, but the hot air had already turned her bright red. "That's right – I'm better, now. My lady's love has steeled my heart!"

"I wonder."

"What's the matter, Luon?"

"Wasn't she supposed to give you a bit of clothing, or jewelry, or something? I've never heard of a lady making her favorite knight promise to bring a toy ferret back." Luon was almost pouting. "She's doing it wrong."

"Yeah, it's strange, but she's kind of… she's a little…" Kagari couldn't quite find an explanation that didn't sound backhanded, so she changed the subject. "That's not what you're mad about, though."

"Ever since she gave you that thing, you've been questing up and down these mountains, and you're acting like it really makes you invincible. Do you think the Lady wanted you to win her favor, then turn right around and go off adventuring again? Do you think it makes her happy that every time you hear about some dangerous thing that needs doing, you throw yourself back into the meat-grinder, and she's the reason?"

"I hope so," Kagari said. "That's the idea, remember? She makes me the knight Starhold needs."

Luon crossed her arms and frowned.

"Come on, that's classic courtly love!" Kagari cried, exasperated. "I thought you'd be happy I'm finally doing something right! What's the problem? You love all this romance stuff!"

"I love a good romantic tale, yes, but I hate tragedies. If you don't slow down… you… well, the goblins up the mountain paid you, didn't they? You should take some time and rest, at least. Eat some good food, let your body recover."

Kagari shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm resting now, aren't I?"

"I wish I could make you see what you're doing to yourself!" Luon groaned. "I'm – I'm so frustrated, I could just…!"

* * *

_Luna Nova_

A light slap fell across Akko's face. "Akko, wake up!"

Akko sat up in a daze, blinking. "Luon? What just…?" Akko started, then yelped as Lotte leaned in and slapped her again. There was no force behind it, but the rebuke was clear.

"You _know_ what happened," she said sternly. "And I'm – I'm very upset with you! That was very, very stupid!"

Akko boggled at her. Her proper memories of Lotte rushed back, but none of them prepared her for _this_.

Lotte seemed surprised, herself. "Y-you started the ritual without knowing how to stop it? Even if we hadn't gotten dragged in, who knows what could have happened to you!"

"Could she have even stopped it?" Sucy asked nearby. "Didn't you feel all that power coming in? Something happened."

"No kidding!" Lotte cried, then subsided, looking around awkwardly. "Sorry – I just – I don't know what came over me." She looked at her hand. "And I feel really bad for slapping you. Worse than I should."

"What, shouldn't you feel bad for hitting me?"

"I mean _worse,_ " Lotte said. "The way I'd feel if I slapped Annabel, or Constanze."

Sucy chuckled. "Ah, so like you're full of bullets."

"Sucy…" Lotte looked to the ceiling and then squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm getting really tired of your morbid jokes. Do you really think now's the time?"

"Who's joking?" Sucy sounded miffed.

"Jeez, what's gotten into you, Lotte?" Akko asked.

"It must be another me," she suggested. "The ritual was supposed to let us meet ourselves, right? Maybe this Lotte has a shorter temper."

"Oh. And so I… oh." Akko looked down at herself and blinked a few times. "That… that makes sense. I do feel a little funny inside. And like, when I saw you, I thought you were someone else. I don't even remember who, now."

Lotte offered Akko a hand up, then grunted in surprise at her weight. They staggered together in place and Lotte exclaimed, "Goodness! Akko, look at your arms!"

"Hey, wow!" Akko flexed, startled by the wiry muscle that leapt out. She bounced and sprang up on one foot and took a few experimental dance steps, bravely restraining herself from picking Lotte up. "I'm _shredded!_ I didn't know my body would change, too! I guess this is what the other me looks like, huh? Are you guys any different?"

"Oh, _no._ " Lotte jolted back and hugged herself. "I didn't even consider – oh no, oh please, oh no… okay." She looked herself over, patted her sides and legs, and let the breath out. "Everything's in place. I just… I just put on a little weight. It's kinda cute, actually."

Akko couldn't remember the last time she'd heard Lotte pay herself a compliment. "Your hair's longer, too. Uh, so you're good?"

"Yes, sorry. I… it's just that, before I met you, um…" Lotte gave her a brief, calculating look, then smiled ruefully and said, "I had my body the way I liked it. I don't know what I would've done if this made it wrong again. Are you—? Oh… Sucy, are you okay?"

Sucy looked more or less the same, but she hadn't moved from her corner, and had turned her face away from them. "The sun's too bright."

The sky outside was slate gray, and the room was in deep shadow. It was dark enough in Sucy's corner that details were hard to make out, but she still huddled as though under a floodlight. Akko and Lotte exchanged a look, then Lotte swung her wand and conjured a set of heavy shutters over the windows, blocking the daylight out completely. "How about—?"

Cool wind rushed through the darkness. "That's better," Sucy said at Lotte's elbow.

Lotte drew a slow, shaky gasp and straightened, frozen in an unexpected embrace. Akko reflexively kicked Lotte's broom up into her hand, whirled it into position, and stopped a centimeter short of thrusting it through Sucy's throat. Sucy spread her hands and let Lotte stagger free. Her visible eye burned steadily in the darkness, casting gentle, rosy light over the three of them.

"What were you thinking?" Akko snapped. "I could have—!" She blinked and fell back a step, wondering why her first reflex had been to go for the throat. "Don't scare us like that!"

"It came naturally," Sucy said behind her, and Akko spun. "I'm _really_ scary, now," she added from another corner. "In the dark, I feel downright demonic! I could even be a man-eat—"

She tried to whisper that last in Akko's ear, but her friend had caught the scarlet eye arcing through the darkness and swung, connecting with a solid _thwack_. Cackling, Sucy snagged the broom and made a sharp move to pull it away. Akko just followed along with the pull and twisted, driving it against Sucy's shoulder and chest in what would have been a fatal stroke from a sword. The two shuffled in place, sharing a cold grin.

" _Open Sesame!_ " Lotte screamed, and the window burst open. Sucy hissed and retreated to her corner, and Akko flailed in the sudden cold wind. "I can't believe you two! You!" She thrust her wand at Akko. "Stop being a ruffian! And you!" She rounded on Sucy. "Stop being a creep! You're not going to eat anyone – you'd never!"

"I almost sacrificed you to a cockatrice the first time we met," Sucy said blandly. She'd managed to sit up in her pool of shadow, squinting against the dim light.

"And I try very hard not to think about that," Lotte replied with a brittle smile. "Now will you please, please, take this seriously? Don't you want to be able to go out in the sun again?"

"I don't know." Sucy brushed her hair behind her shoulder. "All the best mushrooms come out at night, anyway."

Lotte let out a tortured, infuriated squeak, clutching the air.

"Okay," Sucy said, resigned. "Fiiiiine."

"I think we were having fun, though," Akko said. "Right, Sucy?"

Sucy perked back up.

"Well, p-please, at least warn me next time," Lotte said, and accepted a shoulder pat from each of them. "Thank you."

"You know, Sucy, I have an idea," Akko said. "If that body of yours can't handle the sun, then maybe… _Metamorphie Faciesse!_ " The others flinched, but this was the spell that Akko had been practicing relentlessly for weeks. Despite her unfamiliar hands, the spell flew unerringly and _poof,_ Sucy became alpaca. A pink alpaca with her hairstyle and a vivid red eye, anyway, which wasn't too bad. "Well? Try it out."

Sucy took an uncertain step into sunlight and swung her head to look out the window. She didn't seem to be uncomfortable.

Akko put her hands on her hips proudly. "There, see?"

Sucy swung back around, spat in her face, and _poofed_ back into her corner. "Denied."

"You should ask before you transform people," Lotte reminded her.

"Yeah?" Akko sad, scrubbing at her face. "Next time you see Sucy jamming a funnel in my mouth, tell _her_ that! Jeez."

The three collected themselves for a few beats.

"So," Lotte finally said. "What do we do now?"

"Panic?" Sucy suggested.

"It's the weekend," Akko said slowly, and started gaining steam. Her grin filled the room with sunbeams of confidence. "So we have a day or two to fix this, right? I remember now that the book says how you're supposed to send the other you home when the ritual is done. It'll be a little different, but the same kinda thing happened, right? I've just gotta hit the library and read up on that, and then we'll be able to figure something out."

"You're not scared at all, are you?" Lotte asked wonderingly.

"How could I be scared?" Akko considered flexing, but it didn't seem like Lotte would appreciate the joke at the moment. "Well, yeah, I guess so. This is really scary, sure. But I get us into messes like this all the time, and we always get out of it, right? So, don't you two worry – I'll take care of this!"

Akko gave them a salute and then sprinted off.

"Okay, _that_ was more like the normal Akko," Sucy said. "The stupid confidence, at least."

Lotte looked after her, clasping her hands over her chest. "Y-yeah."

"So, how long do you think she'll be able stay on task?" Sucy asked. "She's got charisma, but it looks like our Akko's still in there."

Lotte gasped. "Wait for me!" she called.

* * *

Diana snapped awake. She was sprawled on the stone floor, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all. Her awareness spread without motion or effort, filling her mind with a distant, watery image of the chapel. There'd been no physical damage from the ritual, though the shreds of their failed lens still hung in the air. No damage to her body, either. And her friends…

Friends…?

The idea felt unfamiliar, somehow, but it was a simple fact. She'd come to this chapel with two friends: Hannah and Barbara. The most important thing to do, then, was to make sure that they were alright. She rose smoothly, turned to the nearest source of warmth, and saw Hanna sitting against the wall, staring into space. Barbara was curled up alongside her, head in her lap.

"Oh," Hannah said listlessly. "You're up."

Diana knelt and looked them over. Physically, they seemed alright, though Hannah's heart rate was a little high, and Barbara's body temperature was worryingly low. _How am I getting that information?_ Diana wondered fleetingly, then discarded the question. She could worry about that when she'd seen to them. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"I'm a mess!" Hannah said with a bitter laugh.

"More so than usual," Barbara added lightly, then snickered when Hannah swatted her arm.

"What the hell was that?" Hannah asked. "Was any of this part of your plan, Diana?"

"No. We were only supposed to see a faint sparkle."

"Well, then you've outdone yourself! Typical, I guess. Do you have even the faintest idea of what happened or are we just…?"

"Why are you so pissed off?" Barbara asked.

"Why are you _not?"_ Hannah shot back.

They fell quiet.

"Sorry, I…" Hannah said. "This isn't right, is it? I – I'm _so mad,_ but it doesn't feel like it's coming from me! It's like it was poured into me, or someone's screaming in my ear – or I'm getting frustrated because someone doesn't get it? Does that make any sense?"

Diana cocked her head. "You don't seem to be concussed."

"You can just tell?"

"Somehow, yes. Also, Barbara, do you feel c…?" Diana broke off as Hannah waved a hand slowly in her face. "Yes?"

"You're not yourself either, are you?" Hannah said. "Your expression is so… I'm not sure if you're even _blinking_. Are you sick, or something? How do you feel?"

Diana considered for a long moment, then admitted, "I don't feel anything."

Hannah glowered. "Lucky you."

"I can't account for it," Diana said. "Just as you have every right to be angry with me, I should at least feel confused. In fact, I should be very upset right now. I would say that it's alarming, but clearly, it isn't."

Barbara giggled.

"This… clarity is also allowing me to see how my emotions were clouding our last conversation. You were right to be worried, and I pressured you both into doing something foolish. I'm sorry."

"You don't sound like it."

"Oh, don't be mean," Barbara said airily.

"Barbara's acting weird, too, but all she'll say is she's fine," Hannah said, turning red. "She won't stop joking around."

"That sounds distressing," Diana observed.

"Of _course,_ it is!" Hannah snapped, then glanced down to Barbara. Her tone softened. "When I—when I saw her, right after, I felt like I hadn't seen her in a long time, and it was impossible? It was like being stabbed!"

"You charmer, you," Barbara said.

"Shut up," Hannah replied, without venom.

Diana looked between them, thinking carefully. She used to find her coven-mates a bit mysterious, but they were almost alarmingly easy to read with her new senses. If only their emotions made any sense. Between that and her own lack of affect, she wasn't sure how to continue. Best to stay practical. "You may need more rest. Shall I help you get Barbara to our room?"

"No, you've done enough." Hannah hissed through her teeth. "Man, it keeps flaring back up! And Barbara's just… here, and it's weird to me! Nice, but weird. Everything's weird!"

"I have no idea how our experiment could have done this. However, I remember a book in the school library that may offer insight into what's happened. I'll start with it, and report back if I find out anything useful. For now, we should not say anything to the teachers, unless our conditions worsen."

"What? Why not?"

"I wasn't wholly truthful with Headmistress Holbrooke – she had an inaccurate idea of the risks involved in this experiment, and I didn't correct her. Also, none of them knew that you two would help me. If details of our mishap come to light, our positions at Luna Nova might be threatened."

"You…!" Hannah had to pause and take a deep breath. "You just admitted to lying to the headmistress! And with that _stupid_ blank face! It's like you're some kind of—!" She gave Diana a shove, but her open palm impacted with a sold _thump_ and Diana didn't budge. "Some kind of – of –"

Another awkward pause.

"Robot?" Diana supplied. "It's possible. I saw myself in many different forms when the lens broke. Maybe that was one." She looked down at her hand and flexed it.

"You turned into a robot?" Hannah gasped, wide-eyed.

"Or something similar." A quick search of her memory suggested that Diana should offer reassurance in this situation. "Hannah – I am still the Diana you know, even if I can't express it properly at the moment. My first priority is to make sure that you and Barbara recover. We can, and will, fix this."

Hannah growled under her breath. "This is so ridiculous. You caused this mess! How can you—?"

" _She_ caused this mess?" Barbara asked, finally sitting up. She seemed to float into place, dark hair slowly lofting and settling like smoke. "I'm annoyed, too, but we were all in, weren't we? She warned us that this could be dangerous, didn't she? You volunteered us, and now you're talking like she drove us in here with a whip!"

"I will give you some space," Diana said decisively. "Also, while we should not go out of our way to notify the teachers, if any ask about our experiment, you should throw me under the bus. This accident was entirely my—"

"Oh, get over yourself," Barbara said, smiling. "Didn't you hear what I just said? We talked it over beforehand, Hannah and me. We knew you had us doing something risky, and we came anyway."

Diana paused. Barbara had never talked to her like this before, though she'd come close after the cupid bee incident. Neither had Hannah, come to think of it. Without her own past responses as a guide, her next move was hard to calculate. "Then I will trust—"

"Look! Up above!" Barbara leapt to her feet, hair billowing wide in an invisible wind – then she relaxed. "Oh! I _thought_ I smelled freshly-turned earth – hey, there, Ghoulsy!"

A thin silhouette sat in the alcove above the entrance, lost in shadow before the walled-over frame for a stained-glass window. All that was visible of her was a long, pale leg dangling into the light and a softly glowing red eye. Despite her 360-degree view of the chapel, Diana hadn't sensed her at all – and _still_ couldn't, except by direct sight. "Not bad," she said. "I thought you'd go with 'Even Creepier Sucy.'"

"I'm thinking about working up some better material," Barbara said modestly.

"I give it 6/10."

"Ugh, I should have known," Hannah sighed. "What did you knuckleheads do _this_ time?"

Sucy shrugged. "Seems like you were doing something you shouldn't have been, too."

"We got permission from the headmistress," Diana said.

"That doesn't mean you should've been doing it." Sucy drew her leg up into the dark to sit lotus style. "We were doing a ritual upstairs; Akko was trying to contact herself from another world. Seems like we all got caught up in it, though. It's been an interesting morning, up here."

"How the hell did _Akko_ manage something like that?" Hannah cried.

"Does that mean I'm not the real Barbara?"

A bright grin split the shadows. "That's the question, isn't it?"

Diana ignored her eerie tone. "Do you think anyone else was affected?"

"There were ten lights, so four others, maybe? Unless that was the spell just cooking off at random. You never know with Akko."

Barbara laughed. "So anywhere between zero and a hundred!"

"Sounds like another trio and a straggler," Hannah suggested.

"There were more beams cutting through the chapel from above," Diana said. Without a haze of shock or dismay to get in the way, her memory of the incident was clear. "The remaining four were likely below us, in the forbidden storage area."

Everyone else turned towards the bricked-up stairway, but she didn't feel the urge.

"Well, that makes it obvious," Sucy said. "Who else would be sneaking around down there?"

"O'Neil," Hannah hissed. "Of _course_."

"Hannah, Barbara, I'll need you to find out if she was involved in our mishap. Sucy, you—"

"I can't go in the sun," Sucy said.

"So, like normal?" Barbara asked. "Eh? Eh?"

Sucy cracked her neck and sat back without replying.

"Then can you keep watch over the ritual site and let us know if anything untoward happens, or anyone comes to see it, please? This seems to be a result of our own foolishness, but we shouldn't rule interference out."

"I can do that," Sucy said. "I could probably work out a shade spell to leave, but it seems like such a pain."

Diana nodded. "And, as planned, I will go to the library to learn more about what went wrong and work out a counter-ritual."

"If you see Akko there, be sure to wake her up," Sucy said.

"Acknowledged," Diana said, and turned on her heel.

"That one still takes charge, huh?" Sucy asked as she left.

"If _you_ have any better ideas…!" Hannah replied.

The chapel's doors closed behind Diana and the conversation fell from her mind. Without the disruption of her friends' emotions, her thoughts clicked neatly into order. Making decisions without a command structure to fall back on was uncomfortable, but she used her memories of doing so as a guide and set herself directives based on what she judged Diana should want to do. They were all complex tasks that she would need to pursue concurrently, so she ranked them by priority.

_Priority 1: Determine how the spells interacted, and why they had such unexpected effects on our personalities and emotions. Undo the ritual, or secure aid for Hannah and Barbara in coping with its effects if this is beyond our abilities._

_Priority 2: Correct the astral lens spell and test the new iteration alone, in a different setting. Make arrangements to visit the Cavendish Estate well in advance of the Venusian Eclipse._

_Priority 3: Find out why I'm not feeling anything. Determine the shape of my new mind and how I'll need to relate to the world, if the ritual cannot be undone._

Simple.

The internal obstacles that would have crowded before her past self didn't appear. No anxiety, no anger, and, most of all, no fatigue. All the same, she hadn't lied to Hannah; she was still moving to Diana's will, imperfect as it may have been, and as difficult as it might be to grasp now. If her objectives were skewed in some way, there would surely be time to correct them.

* * *

Amanda woke flat on her back, fully dressed and tucked into her bed. The last time she woke up like this, Jasminka had carried her home after her first experience with brandy. Maybe something like that had happened?

She didn't _feel_ hung over.

Someone was snoring like a sawmill. Amanda rolled out of bed and stood to see Wangari in Jasminka's bunk, wound up in the covers, energetically thrashing and mumbling in her sleep. She dodged an aimless kick and tried to piece together what the star reporter would be doing here, and where Jasminka might be.

Leaving that mystery for later, Amanda grabbed her toothbrush and wandered over to the restroom. Everyone had scattered to the winds for the weekend, though she could hear Mary singing in one of the shower stalls. As Amanda entered, Conz was standing at one of the sinks, letting it run and staring at the water.

After a few seconds, Amanda asked, "You alright?"

Constanze gave her a perplexed look, blinked a few times, then turned back to the water.

Amanda didn't know what to make of that. "Well, uh, have fun, I guess."

As she started away, though, a soft, raspy voice called, "A—Amanda?"

Amanda's heart leapt into her throat and she rushed back. "What's wrong, Conz? Talk t—I mean, tell me."

Constanze slapped a double handful of water into her face and tousled her hair, then finally turned the tap off. After an attempt to keep talking, she grunted in frustration and signed, "Do you know me?"

Amanda blinked. For some reason, she didn't expect to understand, even though she clearly remembered Jasminka presenting her with a sign language book and gently twisting her arm into taking it up. "What kind of question is _that?_ " she asked out loud.

Conz's eyebrows shifted, but she was as hard to read as ever. "You feel new." Her motions were uneven, without cadence, as though her muscle memory weren't all there.

"But we've been roommates all year, so why…?" Amanda shook her head as they started back. "Yeah, why was I surprised to see you? Something's off."

"Is she supposed to be here?" Conz asked, and pointed towards their snoring guest.

"No, she's Yellow Team, remember? I guess Jasna brought her back, though. Where is she, anyway?"

Conz spread her hands. Her face was stone, but Amanda could read the worry in her stance.

Wangari thrashed her way out of bed and flopped onto the floor. "-the Oncoming—!" she exclaimed, then looked around with wide eyes. "IIIII'm not supposed to be here," she said. "Oh, dear."

"We're not gonna eat you," Amanda said. "Take your time and get yourself together." Wangari looked up at her and she felt a flash of – not fear, exactly, but wariness. That was annoying. Why should she find _Wangari,_ of all people, threatening? It was like what she thought of everyone was scrambled up at random. Hopefully, she wouldn't fall in love with Akko or something. "You feeling off, too?"

"Yeah." Wangari looked down at herself and hopped to her feet. "Yeah, everything's off. Man, if I find out the ghost took our souls, I'm going to be _so mad_ at you." Her tone was still cheerful, so _that_ much was the same, at least.

"You said whatever I did would be on you," Amanda said with a shrug. "Well, that's what I did."

Wangari laughed. "You're terrible!"

"You know it," Amanda agreed, grinning.

"And that kinda helped, talking about what we just did. Makes it feel less like a dream."

"Huh, yeah. We don't have too many memories together, though."

"Maybe I'll go find Jo and Kim," Wangari said, starting for the door, but then stopped in her tracks. "Or maybe I won't."

"Huh?"

"I don't know," Wangari said. "I-I just got the feeling they wouldn't want to see me. Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, come on! That was all in your head, just now!"

Wangari nodded. "Sure, but – I just feel like – if I go there, they'll know I'm not me. Like I have to say Wangari's lines, and there's no teleprompter. And like I've never met any of you in my life, even though I _know_ I've known you all year. Oh no, it happened, didn't it? We're the new souls, aren't we?"

Conz marched over and lightly punched her arm.

"What? I'm – I'm sorry, I don't know sign – ahh, don't hit me again! That doesn't help!"

"I think she's trying to be reassuring," Amanda said. "Look, we should find Jasna. If she's all messed up like us, maybe she shouldn't be wandering around alone? And if she was awake, maybe she knows what happened. If you wanna help us, you can stick around."

"Yeah, that'd be… thanks."

Constanze held up a finger, then opened the trap door under her bed and hopped down.

"What's down there, anyway?" Wangari asked.

"She's got a whole workshop – bartered with the fairies for the space, I guess. I've never been down, though. It's easier on all of us when she has a place to decompress without anyone bugging her." Amanda thrust a thumb at her chest proudly. "After all, just imagine sharing a room with _me_ all semester!"

"Terrible!" Wangari agreed, snickering.

"Talking about memories _is_ makin' me feel more solid," Amanda said. "I think you're on to something. I wonder if you—?"

Constanze popped back up out of the chute, but gave a panicked cry at the top of her arc and pitched into an awkward angle. Amanda took a quick step and caught her like a football.

"What was _that?_ " Wangari squawked. "You're fast, but – I've never seen that spell before!"

"What was what?" Amanda replied, then finally realized that her quick step had covered about five feet. "Hang on, did I just…?" She flashed to the top bunk, and then back to the entryway. At that point, Conz punched her in the short ribs to signal that she wanted to be put down. "It doesn't feel like I'm casting anything," she said, dropping Conz onto her feet. "Looks like I can just _do it_. Did you guys get any nifty powers?"

Constanze and Wangari looked at each other and shrugged.

"Anyway, like I said, let's make sure Jasna's okay."

"I'm not going out there," Conz signed. She handed Amanda a pair of nylon straps strung with six small magitronic radios each. Hands freed, her motions became a little easier. "School was bright and loud and painful already. And now in here is almost too much." She glanced to Wangari, and added, "Tell her no offense. And for you," she ended the statement with a middle finger, which got a laugh.

"Maybe you got it worse than the rest of us," Amanda suggested, then explained to Wangari, "She was acting like she'd never seen a tap before. And she says she can't deal with the campus now, but you're not too bad. And also, fuck me!"

Conz coughed to get their attention back. "I'm going to my workshop. Keep the radios tuned to 78.5."

"78.5," Amanda repeated for Wangari's benefit. "See you soon! And don't wipe out on your back way up!"

Conz flipped her off again, then disappeared into her lair.

"Hey, why'd she give us so many?" Amanda asked, lifting the clattering loops of radios.

"We might not be the only ones this happened to," Wangari suggested. "Raw power couldn't do this to us without a spell to guide it, right? Let's see if we can find anyone else who got messed up like us." Now that they were in motion, she'd brightened even further. "So, give me one of those, and let's go!"

* * *

Amanda made a circuit of the places where Jasminka went for solitude, mostly remote corners of the upper floors where she'd hidden stashes of chips and candy. She rushed from hideout to hideout, encountering only a goblin janitor who smirked and zipped his lips when he saw her running in the halls. Her irritation was giving way to worry as she descended onto the main floor, but didn't really get a grip on her before she noticed a strange scene at the far end of the hall, lined in pale overcast light from the windows.

It started innocently enough – Wangari was talking animatedly with Akko and Lotte, miming relief so eloquently that Amanda could read it from here, too far off to make out their words. Wangari noticed her and waved the loop of radios triumphantly, showing that some were gone.

"Figures that it'd be Akko," Amanda muttered, and started over – then stopped when Hannah and Barbara entered the scene from stage right, with a dramatic (and unexpectedly playful) point and cry of "Yooou!" from Barbara. Wangari ignored the theatrics and cheerfully offered a radio, but Hannah stalked right past her and started yelling at Akko.

That was normal enough, but their body language was all wrong. Hannah's stance wasn't just aggressive, but _dangerous_ , leaning in with her shoulder forward and her hand on her wand like a gunfighter. Akko had drawn herself up and raised her chin, facing her with steely calm, responding in short, sharp bursts. Barbara was completely out of synch with Hannah, swaying happily and enjoying the scene with a nasty smile. And then Lotte, quiet little fluffball Lotte, pushed Akko aside, pointed in Hannah's face, and drove her back with a high-pitched tirade that Amanda could almost make out. The whole scene felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare.

Wangari gritted her teeth and bobbed her head at Amanda in a _get over here_ gesture. Right. That probably wasn't fun to be in the middle of.

"Ms. O'Neil," a sharp voice said behind her. Amanda wheeled about to face a tall, middle-aged witch with iron-gray eyes and an iron-hard face. Apparently, she was in trouble. Again.

"Professor Finneran," Amanda said blankly. Normally, a situation like this would make her tense, or angry, or ready to style on an authority figure, or _anything,_ but it just wouldn't come for some reason. She was… unimpressed. A hardass teacher from a private school wasn't worth the defiance. "Uh, what can I do for you?"

If Finneran was surprised by the lack of sass, she didn't show it. "Come with me, please. I have some questions for you."

Amanda glanced to Wangari, who was drawing a hand across her throat and shaking her head frantically, then back to Finneran. Since it wasn't just her who could get in trouble, she decided to cooperate. "Sure. Lead the way."

They walked in silence, bypassing the faculty office and descending a flight of stairs to the main entrance. Before they stepped out into the gray afternoon, Finneran held out a cloak and Amanda accepted it with a grunt. It was a miserable day outside, just barely warm enough to stay wet and clammy.

"Summon your broom," Finneran said. When Amanda opened her mouth to object, she added, "I know you've been studying spells you're not supposed to know yet – it seems forbidding them is the only way we can get you to take an interest! I don't care about that right now."

"Sounds like something big is happening," Amanda remarked, snatching her broom from the air.

"You'll see," Finneran replied, and caught her own.

Amanda's stomach sank as they set out over the woods towards the mouth of the forbidden tunnel, but her expression stayed level. She'd play this one by ear. _How am I so calm, anyway? I'm even keeping my cool with Finneran!_ It started to rain and Finneran swept her wand with a muttered incantation, conjuring a green kite that kept pace with them and shielded them from the worst of it. Oddly, Amanda felt a tiny spike of envy at the ease and carelessness of the spell. She'd never worried about stuff like that before.

What if Wangari was right about the ghost? If so, Amanda didn't like her new soul very much.

"There," Finneran called, pointing ahead. They were approaching a column of smoke, stark and powdery in the cold air. "Do you know what that is?"

"I don't know, a cookout?" Amanda asked flippantly. "Maybe…" As they got closer, her next joke died on her lips. "The hell?"

A trio of security ogres stood in the rain around the tunnel entrance – or rather, the crater where it once stood. The tunnel itself was a smoldering, fanged hellmouth lined with jagged teeth of purple crystal. Green Team had slipped delicately in, but apparently someone had simply walked out, pulverizing each layer of defenses as it activated. Barrier spells had been blasted from their moorings, mithril bars had been warped and smashed aside, and each deadly circle was skewered by a glittering spear. It would only have taken Luna Nova's security minutes to respond, so whoever it was had worked fast.

 _Did Jasna do this?_ It seemed impossible. "Professor, what hap—?" Amanda started, realized how pathetic she sounded, then realized she didn't care. "What happened?"

Finneran's expression softened a little. "I'd thought that you might have an idea. Of all the students prone to mischief, you're one of the few who could have slipped through our security here. I was rather hoping you'd take the opportunity to brag." She turned back to watch as a pair of ogres in hazmat suits trudged out of the tunnel, carrying an ark between them. "It seems that you know as little as the rest of us, however. I'm sorry for troubling you."

Genuine horror was doing wonders for Amanda's acting skills. "No, I – was there something down there?"

"Down there?" Finneran asked without turning. "Many things. If this trip has accomplished anything, it's to show you how dangerous your hobby can be. It's easy to forget by day, but our school has become a repository of horrors over the centuries – artifacts and monsters that couldn't be contained anywhere else, tomes with knowledge that nobody should have, or with minds of their own… do you think we're being vindictive when we forbid the forest and the cellars?"

Amanda wanted to scoff, but she could see that Finneran was dead serious. It wasn't a ghost story intended to scare her straight. Something to think about, maybe, after she found Jasna and everyone was themselves again. "Can I go?"

"I don't see why not. Would you like me to come with you?"

"No! I – I'm fine."

Finneran looked back at her for a long, unreadable moment, perhaps suspicious, perhaps concerned, then strode over to yell orders at the ogres. Amanda stayed to watch them ignore her for a little while, then set out for the school, gripping her broom with white knuckles. She'd been tense before, but now she was _afraid_.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Fairy Smoke_

The city of Tor's Shade hunkered beneath its mirrored blister, sheltered from the Sun's fury. A brown and gold forest crackled and baked around it, waiting to bloom in the precious twilight hours before night. Its citizens, likewise, lay in wait. Deep below its cramped streets and towering vaults stood a cathedral in a vast cavern, resplendent against a night sky of blue-green phosphorescent fungi. Stained-glass windows depicted forgotten gods in torment, fed to lions, cast into furnaces, crucified… this was no longer a place for humans, but with such ghoulish décor, it was hard to imagine it ever had been.

Within, girl lay in state. She was stretched out on the altar in a black dress, long, pale hands crossed over her chest, strewn with red petals. It had been weeks. Her friends and family had grieved, and even the cathedral's masters would soon give up and return her to the Earth. But then, as the hated sun slipped away far overhead, she gasped and shuddered. Her eyes cracked open, a dim red glimmer, and she torturously raised a hand to squint at it in the dim light.

She didn't _feel_ dead.

Suddenly, she wasn't alone. A deep shadow fell over her like a bat's wings, and condensed into a hunched figure alongside her altar, an elderly woman with long silver hair and broad, strong shoulders. Her eyes blazed like scarlet lanterns from a face that seem sculpted from planes of harsh light and utter darkness. And yet, there was no menace to her – it was still the Witch, the Night Spirit, the woman who'd taken her in and shown her the vast world beneath Tor's Shade. Her dear friend, Ramzan. "Ah… it's such a relief to see you, child. But then, I knew you'd make it."

The vote of confidence was nice, as late as it came. "G'morning," the girl said, sitting up. The room spun for just a moment, but she was already feeling stronger.

"Yes, good morning!" Ramzan said. "Now that you've joined us, you'll be needing a new name. Any preferences?"

The new girl started object that she had a name already, but stopped herself. That wasn't the point, was it? She shrugged.

"I once saw a funny little plant in my travels, before the Sun fell," Ramzan mused. "They were pale flowers with big nodding heads, ghostly white, stem and all. They didn't need sunlight, because they drank from mushrooms living on the forest floor. Now, what were they called?"

The girl stood slowly, finding to her surprise that nothing ached or protested. The chapel's windows surrounded her with scattered reflections of a slender, stooped figure, hair falling in a heavy pink tide over her pallid face. She'd almost objected to the idea of being named for a flower, but she _did_ look a bit like a scrawny plant bending under the weight of its own blossom.

"Corpse plants? That's a terrible name, that can't be what I… oh, yes! Fairy smoke! We could call you Fairy Smoke."

Smoke looked slowly up to Ramzan and blinked drowsily.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"It'll do," Smoke said carelessly. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. "I guess people can't keep calling me Su—" She recoiled from the Witch's finger on her lips, spitting dryly.

"You came to me because you were done being that girl," Ramzan reminded her, wagging the finger. "You're brand new, Fairy Smoke – so don't go invoking her name. You might start to have regrets!"

Something reached through the haze and pricked at Smoke's heart. Excitement? Fear? She didn't try to name it. "Okay," she said.

"Okay? That's all?" Ramzan seemed amused. "You're being so dour on your first birthday!"

"I never cared much about birth—my first?" Smoke's heart pricked again and her eyes widened, but her voice stayed as flat as ever. "Oh, yeah. That's right."

"Yes, this one is special!" Ramzan said. "You're making feelings that you'll carry into a new life. And right now, I'll bet you're feeling hungry."

"I don't know," Smoke admitted. "It's just… different."

"I remember it well; I was ravenous when I was first reborn. You'll feel better after you've fed." Ramzan stepped around behind her and rested gentle, heavy hands on her shoulders. "Look up and let your eyes relax. Focus on that feeling. You'll see what you need to."

Smoke looked to the cathedral's ceiling and her hair fell back, freeing both glowing eyes; she flinched as cool air fell on the left side of her face, but she didn't brush it back into place. Instead, she drew a deep, meditative breath, and let her eyes unfocus. The cathedral seemed to grow brighter for a moment, but then its light fell away, and the ceiling vanished from her sight. Something was glittering beyond the solid earth overhead, a soft red light that matched her eyes. No, it was _pulsing_. Her mouth fell open in wonder, revealing sharp teeth. "A heart…"

"Not just one," Ramzan replied. "Keep looking."

Smoke's gaze deepened, somehow, and she saw more of them. Dozens. Hundreds! The hearts of every human in Tor's Shade wheeled slowly overhead like a sky full of stars. As she got used to this new vision, she could see tethers of light between them, spinning an enormous web – a great bloody net that could fall on her at any moment. She tensed, but Ramzan's hands were reassuring on her shoulders. "It's huge! It could – eat me."

Ramzan chuckled. "That's the opposite of what we're hoping for, I think."

"Heh." The joke helped, but Smoke was still afraid. Annoyingly, she couldn't shake the feeling of a titanic monster looming over her. "They look like veins. Like it's one big thing."

"You could call the city a creature, yes, but you're not looking at flows of blood. Humans are connected in ways they can't see or understand, and their blood is only the medium for what we drink." Ramzan squeezed her shoulders. "Do any of them catch your eye?"

Smoke opened her mouth to ask how she was supposed to tell them apart, but, to her surprise, a few did seem to stand out. One in particular was captivating, though she couldn't say what it was that drew her. "Yeah. I think so."

"Remember," Ramzan said softly, with the cadence of reciting from memory. "The human you find won't be prey for you to steal from. You're looking for a person who will give of themselves to you. If you accept, you will be giving of yourself, in turn. Do you understand? We're not parasites. We must always give more than we take."

Smoke nodded slowly.

"Then go forth, Fairy Smoke, and don't let the Sun see you. As of today, He knows your name, and He hates you."

Smoke took a step forward, but then turned back. A grin full of terrible fangs stretched her face, and the warmth that had been struggling to find a way out finally appeared in her voice. "Thanks, Ramzan." The cathedral was already empty, but she knew Ramzan had heard her. With that, Fairy Smoke jumped. Her shadow spread like wings and flung her into the cool darkness of the solid Earth above, then rippled like a manta ray to carry her towards the surface. The web of hearts grew brighter and clearer, and her fear faded; as she drew near, it started to feel like home.

Or at least one of those scarlet stars did…

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Lotte's pretext for running back to Red Team's room was to fetch the Shiny Rod, just in case they needed it, but she also needed to squeeze a quick cry in. She checked around the room, locked the door, curled up on her top bunk, and wept. It felt a little embarrassing this time, as though the visiting Lotte were objecting, but it still helped.

Lotte always felt brand new after crying, even if her situation hadn't changed. It was like the sun coming out after a rainstorm. Whatever had driven her to desperation would always seem small and strange, easier to approach. Now, though, as she blew her nose and came back down to Earth, _everything_ looked strange.

Akko was her roommate, a scary warrior, and a delicate baby bird she had to protect. Barbara was an annoying bully, an uncanny wraithlike weirdo _,_ and someone her heart leapt to see. (What was _that_ about?) Everyone in this mess had been fractured into three, in her heart – the one she'd always known, the one they'd joined with, and the one that the other Lotte expected to see. No wonder she felt like she'd crack apart herself!

She hummed a few shaky notes, and a fairy spirit came by to check on her, oozing up through the bedspread. It trilled as she stroked it with a finger. _Why don't I do this more often?_ Her ability to talk to fairies had been a normal part of life for so long that she often forgot how amazing it was. To think – her voice could ring across dimensions, and her songs were so beautiful that spirits flocked to hear! Pride rose in her throat, and she didn't know what to do with it.

As the fairy left, her gaze drifted out to the row of _Night Fall_ books above her desk. The most recent arc was lined up there, of course, along with a few of her favorite volumes from the older runs. She used to prefer the early stories, but now that she knew the current author, she'd convinced herself that it was better than ever. _By Annabel Crème_ was an electric phrase when she had a friend to attach it to.

 _Why do I love those books so much, anyway?_ she wondered. It wasn't doubt so much as curiosity – now she was looking at them with the eyes of a Lotte who thought all this bloodsucking stuff was a little kinky and weird. (Not lately, though. The latest Annabel had dropped most of that in favor of dinosaur taming and fistfights on nuclear missiles.)

"Maybe vampires are just cool," she mused aloud.

She almost wasn't surprised when long, delicate fingers brushed her hair back. "Do you think that's what I am?" Sucy asked. No apology for appearing out of thin air deep in her personal space, but that was typical.

"Maybe?" Lotte glanced over her shoulder. There wasn't a lot of room between her and the wall, so Sucy was really wedged in there. "How did you get in?"

"This is my room, too," Sucy said mockingly, then added, "I have no idea."

"Can you… teleport between shadows?"

"Do vampires do that?"

"Sometimes." Lotte gestured to her shelf of vampire fiction. It wasn't just _Night Fall_ , though they had the place of honor. "They're all different. I think you'll have to feel it out."

"I wish I'd tried that series, now." Sucy shifted and made an annoyed noise. "Can you move?"

Lotte started to, but then reminded her, "This is my bed, you know. Why did you even…?"

"I guess you don't scare that easily," Sucy remarked from her own bed. A swipe of her wand dropped the curtains, though she thoughtfully left Lotte's side open.

Lotte glanced back again. Nothing but the wall. "How—?"

"Don't know," Sucy said flatly. After a moment, she continued in a more thoughtful tone. "It feels like I'm swimming with big fins. Or gliding, more like. I guess the sun won't be a problem after all."

Dozens of questions fluttered around Lotte's head, but she couldn't begin to choose which to ask. Somehow, despite the fact that that she was talking to a red eye glowing out of unnaturally deep shadows, she wasn't afraid. In fact, her friend looked oddly vulnerable. "Ah, Sucy…?"

"It doesn't feel right when people call me that," Sucy said. "Maybe the other me has a different name."

Lotte shot bolt upright and covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh! Is there – is there something else we should call you?"

Sucy gave her a faintly surprised look. "I'll let you know if I think of anything."

"Oh. Oh! Okay, thank you."

"Why are _you_ thanking _me?_ " Sucy asked. "I thought the other you was less of a pushover."

"Th-this isn't me being a pushover!" Lotte said, then sat against the wall, crossing her arms. "Names are important. Even if your body's strange and wrong, people should know who you are and respect it! I just want to… it's such a basic thing, I don't want to mess it up."

Sucy stared up at her, teetering on the edge of a question, then reclined back without asking it. Lotte sighed, letting the tension of the moment out. She wasn't sure if she was ready to explain.

"I was here to ask you about vampire stuff, since you're the expert," Sucy finally said. "It was you or Barbara, and she's even creepier than me, now."

"She is?"

"She's got no blood."

Lotte shuddered.

"Diana doesn't either, but we know why, with her." Sucy mirrored Lotte's pose. "But it's the first thing I'm noticing about everyone, the blood. Or the warmth, anyway. I think I'm hungry."

"Well… if you really are a vampire…"

"I don't know what to do," Sucy admitted. "But I was bluffing Akko when I said I was a man-eater. I don't kill people to eat. Probably."

"Oh, uh, good." Lotte blinked a few times. It hadn't even occurred to her that Sucy might actually be a killer. Funny, considering how they'd met. "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can help. All the books are different – even the _Night Fall_ books don't all agree. They don't all have the same way of feeding. Do you… are your teeth… oh, _wow._ "

Sucy shut her mouth. "I'm pretty sure I use them."

"S-so you bite people. That's progress!"

"That much was obvious," Sucy said. "But I could really hurt someone with these, and then they'd be bleeding on me. What does the vampire boy do, in those books of yours?"

"You mean Edgar?" Lotte asked.

Sucy shrugged. "Sure."

Lotte swallowed dryly. She felt caught between her two selves again, but this time they were squeezing in to push her in the same direction. Meeting her friend as a real-life vampire had the Lotte of Luna Nova dying of curiosity, but she'd never have been brave enough to act on it. The visitor wouldn't have understood the appeal, but now that she did… a warm feeling rushed through Lotte's face and chest, down to her fingertips; it was new to her, but somehow also pleasant and familiar.

"Well, first he makes sure Belle is comfortable. Usually, they… hm… come over here, again." Lotte beckoned. "They're usually already touching. He gives her time to ease into it."

Sucy blinked at her, then smoothly scooted from her perch to Lotte's side, as though it were the same bed. Lotte guided Sucy's hands, turned away, and leaned back into her, placing them in a light embrace. Sucy squirmed a bit, then steadied. "Like this?" she asked studiously. "What next?"

"They talk some, about their days, or important things on their minds, which we've been doing. They're always winding down, letting go of their stress and worries…" Lotte gave her a quick look. "And after a few minutes of that, Belle's ready."

"And then he just bites her?"

"Yes. It's okay because Belle trusts him."

"That's… simpler than I thought," Sucy said, fidgeting. She started to lean in, hesitated, and sat back awkwardly. Her face was deadpan, but Lotte had never seen her so nervous.

"I think you know what to do," Lotte said softly. "I think what you're asking for is permission."

Sucy started to pull away, but Lotte squeezed her wrists.

"You're not rolling over me," Lotte whispered, hardly believing it herself. "I want you to."

Sucy rested her forehead against Lotte's shoulder. Outside of their half-covered window, one of the last flights of geese honked their way over Luna Nova. As the silence stretched, a whole school full of footsteps, distant voices, and sporadic bursts of magic seemed to press in on their dark little sanctum. Finally, Sucy drew herself up and cool breath fell on Lotte's neck.

Lotte smiled and drifted away.


	3. A Simple Plan

_Memory – The World of Hannah England, P.I._

Lightning danced silently over the towers of Blytonbury and fierce wind howled through its narrow, twisting streets. The few pedestrians who were still out scurried with their heads down, pre-emptively popping umbrellas and darting from awning to awning. When the storm hit, it would be a big one.

The Parker and England Detective Agency's sign swung rapidly on its post, but didn't break. Within, a secretary dutifully pecked away at a typewriter, and the agency's only remaining detective hunched over the last dregs of a suspected poisoning case, stubbing out a cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. Sadly, she'd have to report to her client that it didn't look like anyone was trying to poison her. _Again._

Sealing up her work in a heavy manila envelope, Hannah emerged from her office and dropped it on the secretary's desk.

"Hey, Andrew," she said. "Mail this off when you hit the post office tonight, will you? This should close out the Lukić case, not that it'll stop her complaining."

"Okay," Andrew said, standing. "I'd better hurry before the rain hits."

"Do you think that'll take us into the black?"

"This month, sure," Andrew said doubtfully. "But we don't have anything new lined up, do we? I wish…" He broke off uncomfortably, but he didn't have to finish. Hannah could close cases out like a machine, but they both knew she wasn't the one who'd chased down new clients. "…anyway, I'll get this mailed off right away."

"And, hey," Hannah added, noticing the paper he'd been working on. "How's the law school application coming?"

Hannah smiled at his despairing groan, but it fell away as she passed back into her office the two desks confronted her. Her own, a bit messier than normal but still usable, and the cluttered monstrosity Barbara had left behind, untouched these past few weeks. Almost against her will, Hannah veered from her course and rested a hand on it, eyes drifting over scattered reports and files, mugshots of a glowering Irishwoman, discarded snack wrappers, a glossy new _Night Fall_ novel… Barbara had been looking forward to it for months, but now she'd never find out what happened to Edgar and his werewolf boyfriend.

"I should get this cleaned up," Hannah said aloud, but didn't move.

A sudden knock brought her back to the present. Her voice was sharp and steady. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Is this the Parker and England Detective Agency?" the visitor asked. She had a high-pitched voice, calm, trying on uncertainty for the moment but bearing an unmistakable air of command.

"You saw the sign, didn't you?" Hannah replied. "It's just England now, though."

"Oh. Am I intruding?" Finally turning, Hannah saw that her visitor was a tall woman whose blonde hair was streaked with odd, tea-green highlights. She restlessly worked the buttons of a trench coat that lay open over a blue tunic dress. The clothes were brand new, probably bought for this visit; conservative but fashionable, suggesting a trained sense of style. Her expression was contrite, but the striking blue of her eyes made even that look imposing. "I'm dreadfully sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I—"

"Anyone who reads the papers knows who you are," Hannah said. " _And_ how dangerous it'd be to play with you. If you're hiring, Ms. Cavendish, you'll have to make it worth my while."

The woman's eyes cooled, but tension left her shoulders. She seemed a lot more comfortable now that she knew where they stood. Good. "I believe that's well within my means. May I?"

Hannah gestured into the room, but then had to suppress an angry twitch when Cavendish rolled Barbara's chair from behind her desk to sit on. (But there was nowhere else to sit. _Remind Andrew to get us some more chairs._ ) "So, what seems to be your—" Hannah paused in the middle of resting her elbows to clear a space on her desk with a swipe of her arm. A metal cup toppled from the end and clattered loudly on the dusty floor. "Trouble?"

"Are you alright?" Cavendish asked. "You seem a bit… distracted."

Hannah lit a cigarette and pointedly ignored the question. "What do you want to hire me for?"

"I'm being blackmailed, and going to the authorities is not an option."

"And you're coming to a nobody like me?" Hannah asked. "Aren't you the head of a noble house?"

"Discretion is important here; I can't very well use the family's resources on such a personal matter. Besides which, your status as a 'nobody' is carefully maintained, I happen to know."

"Sure, sure. What do they have on you?"

Cavendish hesitated, understandably, then shook her head. "In truth, it's an open secret. In order to secure funding for our hospitals in the Blytonbury area, I've been reduced to keeping a few wealthy patrons supplied with their drugs of choice – opium, mainly, but also cocaine, morphine, and others. The blackmailer claims to have evidence of these dealings."

"Doesn't seem like much of a threat. You'd just walk, if they even bothered bringing you in."

"The authorities would be easily managed, yes. The real threat is that if my… customers are exposed, they will most likely withdraw their patronage and may even attempt discrediting the House of Cavendish to ensure that their habits don't come to light. The threat is less against me as an individual than it is against my family and the work we do."

"He probably learned about one of your patrons' habits first, and followed the supply upstream to find you," Hannah observed. "So, you want me to find this guy? See if he really has the evidence?"

"Yes." Discomfort flickered across Diana's face. "Ideally, being found out will be enough to keep them quiet, and I will, of course, remind them of the _other_ professionals I could hire in the event that it does not."

Hannah looked her over, eyes narrowing. "You don't like this game, do you? Why not just roll over? Pay the guy off, and maybe that'll be it. He's gotta know he's playing with fire."

"I have my pride, Detective," Cavendish said. Cold humor entered her voice as she added, "And the stress my blackmailer must be under is my one consolation."

"Heh."

"Are the rates out front current?"

"Yeah," Hannah said. "But for a job like this…"

"I'll quintuple it and add expenses."

Hannah's jaw dropped. "What is this guy _asking_ for?"

"My plan is to make it _abundantly_ clear that blackmailing a Cavendish is a losing proposition. Rooting this one out will be well worth the price. Besides which, you come highly recommended, so I do not expect that the search will be drawn out. Do we have a deal?"

They shook. Her client's hand was surprisingly rough, like a laborer's, which made Hannah wonder how aristocrats spent their days.

"I have the blackmailer's letter and some other relevant materials in this folder. Take your time in looking through them; I have copies." She gave Hannah a guarded smile. "Also, you can call me Diana, if you'd like."

"For that kind of money, I'll call you anything you want. I'm Hannah, by the way."

Diana surprised her by chuckling. "You know, Hannah, I think we're going to get along."

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Hannah stepped into the alien moonscape of her own luxurious room. _I don't belong in a place like this._ She'd had the thought many times in the past, usually colored by the anxiety and disbelief of a formerly working-class kid waiting for the other boot to drop. Elegant settings always reminded her of how rough and out-of-place she was. But today, scanning it with the gimlet eye another Hannah, she felt like a giant stomping through a dollhouse. The fact that she didn't fit almost gave her a sense of… pride?

Huh.

"Not the time," she said aloud, and started for Diana's desk. Walking her fingers through the row of files, she paused on the one labeled "VACATION" and plucked it up. Sure enough, it was full of notes, diagrams, and calculations, along with the cute little spray of lightning bolts Diana had drawn to illustrate her ritual's dangers on that rainy evening. It was a little-known fact that she was a doodler, and every page was lined with eyes, flowers, and calligraphic letters. In class, they were the product of a mind racing ahead of the lecture, but on this particular project, they might have been a retreat from what she was doing.

The next file was overstuffed, and some of its contents had spilled out onto the desk when she'd jostled it. Hannah's brows knit at the sight of a few photographs of old stage shows. "Diana, why are you studying _Shiny Chariot,_ of all people?" she asked the air. Briefly, she was caught in a vice, the detective in her wanting to snoop and the student wanting to respect her friend's privacy – but then simple, brute curiosity swept them both away and she snatched up the "S. CHARIOT" folder.

Compared to VACATION's straightforward organization, this one was like leafing through a fever dream. That dumb Shiny Rod toy Akko ran around with was the legendary _Claiomh Solais?_ Ursula Callistis was secretly Shiny Chariot? ( _Does she think we're stupid?_ Diana asked in outraged cursive, beneath doodles of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.) Many pages were even more cryptic – lists of virtues, transcribed lines in various old gaelic languages, frustrated questions in increasingly unhinged handwriting, lots and lots of butterfly doodles…

"I never took you for a conspiracy theorist," Hannah said with a smirk. If even half of Diana's speculation were true, it would put _Akko Kagari_ at the center of a plot to break the seal on the Grand Triskelion, cast the World Reconstruction Magic, and reignite the ley lines for another thousand years! "For pity's sake, Diana. Why would…?"

Hannah frowned. One of the pictures that had fallen on the desk featured a young Chariot waving enthusiastically to the camera, arm hooked around taller girl's neck. The friend looked familiar, despite the glasses and long hair. "Is that Professor Meridies?" Sure enough, the back of the photo was labeled _Chariot du Nord and Croix Meridies, 2006._

Why was recognizing her so spooky? Was it the idea that she could be mixed up in this World Reconstruction stuff, too? Sure, the way she talked about transforming the world of magic was kind of creepy sometimes, and it was a little bit suspicious how she managed to swoop in and save the day right when everyone was having a big fight about her research lab…

"No, come on," Hannah insisted. "Croix stopped the fairies from hurting us! She's alright, right? Everyone loves her!"

But why had the fairies revolted now, and not any year before? Why did everything come to a head so suddenly, right when she came to Luna Nova? And hadn't Croix even admitted that she'd invented the magic-blocking material that the fairies had used to cut the campus off during their strike?

"No, the fairies' deal sucked. It makes sense that they'd strike!" Unbidden, the thought rose: _Which made going out and yelling at them pretty stupid, huh?_ Unease glimmered in the back of her mind, but she was starting to get the balance of how her two selves felt about Diana. "Croix wouldn't use the fairies like that, would she? And they're better off now, anyway!"

Hannah's gaze drifted up to the maintenance door next to the bathroom. During the strike, she and Barbara had bribed a fire fairy to heat a bath for them, but then the water had gone cold and they'd emerged to find the poor little guy doused with a bucket of water. Not a moment later, a group of fairies had barged in and found them standing over his smoldering form. So began the riot.

"Someone deliberately caused it," Hannah realized. She gripped her chin and glanced towards the entrance. "Someone broke in here and assaulted that fairy, and then led the others here, _specifically_ to frame us. They wanted the fairies to lash out!" And then Croix had arrived, heroically soaring down in front of the whole school and solving everything effortlessly, as though she'd had an off-switch for the fairies, stopping them an instant before Hannah and Barbara would have been smashed to paste. Riot over, lab secured. "No. No way. But who else would even have a reason to…?"

Well, even if the new teacher was a sinister operator, that wasn't their immediate problem. Hannah quickly tidied up and left to deliver her folder. The attack kept churning in the back of her mind, but pretty soon she wouldn't be half detective anymore, and maybe she could stop worrying about it.

* * *

The campus was overwhelming to Diana's new senses, clogging her mind with the conversations and scents and sounds and motion of the dozens of students surrounding her at every moment. It just took a bit of practice to focus on a manageable slice of the chaos. Hannah seemed to notice she was out of sorts when she came to deliver the folder, but just continued past her with a wave over her shoulder. _She's not looking to you for guidance. Probably for the best._

The library was quiet, at least. After a moment to calibrate herself for the new environment, Diana crossed to the front desk and waved to the goblin manning it. Fairies were protective of their names, so he would just be "the librarian goblin" until he clocked out.

"Mornin', Moneybags!" he said.

"Good morning." The staff had started teasing Diana ever since she'd tried to defuse their strike, which was normally irritating and uncomfortable, but now it didn't faze her at all. Robot or not, this other self was proving to be useful. "Have you seen Akko around?"

"Yeah, she's been in and out all week! I guess the bug bit her." The librarian pointed to southwest corner, where Akko sat with her face pressed into an open book, thumping the table with a fist. "And can you tell her to stop groaning so much? She's bothering the other patrons."

"Acknowledged." Diana took a step towards the table.

"H-hey, you alright, Ms. Cavendish?" the librarian asked. "You seem kinda… not yourself. Is everyone just in a kooky mood, or what?"

Diana halted awkwardly. "I've been a little under the weather, but I'm recovering." _Light-hearted – you're usually light-hearted around this fellow._ "I won't be spreading the plague, if that's what you're worried about." She tried giving him a smile.

He shuddered and backed away. "Uh, good to hear."

"Thank you for your help," Diana said with a sharp nod, and disengaged. Lesson learned. Don't smile at people. She wasn't even sure what she'd done that made it come across wrong. Or maybe the joke didn't land? It wasn't really a joke, but he'd usually laugh.

"Figures _you'd_ be mixed up in this," Akko grumbled as she drew near.

"I had much the same thought," Diana replied. "Also, the librarian requests that you keep quiet."

Akko sat up and crossed her arms, watching expectantly.

"Yes?" Diana asked.

"Aren't you going to scold me? That's what you always do. I figured I'd have to wait for you to get done chewing me out before we could – nngh," Akko swayed and touched her temple. "What? I… what was I just saying?"

"Berating you now would be a waste of time. Neither of us is in a condition to pass – or receive – judgment." Diana sat across from her. Looking her over, she could see a number of troubling physical signs (and also a lot more muscle than she expected), but it was best to keep any commentary to a minimum. "Also, you're running a fever."

"You're so considerate," Akko said flatly.

Diana gestured to the book Akko had been cradling her forehead in. "Have you made any progress?"

"I think so," Akko said. "Here's what I have. Uh, the ritual's supposed to end when either person wants it to, but I think ours cut off before we got the chance. Whichever one's the guest pictures whatever about their world is most important to 'em, and their heart makes a music note that the ritual matches to their home. Like, if I was the visitor, I'd think about the Shiny Chariot show I saw when I was a kid, or the time I got into Luna Nova, or my first joust. Wait, I mean – that last one's the other me. But you know what I mean. So, this new spell we make, we gotta teach it to do that."

"We will also need to discipline and focus ourselves," Diana added. "Last night, your ritual tried to read our desires, but it couldn't understand us. When you give a ritual input it wasn't made for, there's very little intelligence to account for it. That's what makes them so dangerous."

"I get it, I get it," Akko sighed. "Lay off, already."

"I'm not scolding," Diana said. "I'm urging caution. The standard ritual was not designed for this situation, and whatever ritual we design will not be able to use any information we don't directly give it."

"Like a computer, kind of," Akko observed.

Diana's eyebrow twitched. "Like the computers of this world, perhaps. I – my visiting self, rather – have experience with computers that are much more reliable."

"Oh, I heard from Hannah! Aren't you like a robot, now, or something?"

"Android, please," Diana said reflexively. She hadn't been sure until that moment, but the impulse to correct Akko turned like a key in her mind, and memories spilled out. A brief childhood among identical sisters, and then her first assignment, charting a course across the stars to meet her new crew. She'd spent years working alongside them, aiding them and being supported in turn. Were they her friends? The idea was still uncomfortable and strange to the visiting Diana, but in some ways their relationship matched the human Diana's approach towards her fellow students at Luna Nova. So, either the android had friends and just hadn't accepted it, or…

"You okay?" Akko asked, poking her arm gently.

"Of course," Diana said. "I was just processing new memories."

"Well, that's just what we need!" Akko said. "C'mon, spill!"

Diana felt her gaze drifting sideways. A reflex from her human side? "I live on a vessel of some kind – a spaceship. We're explorers who travel ahead of humanity to chart a safe path for their expansion."

"We? Oh, there's a me in your other world, too? What am I like there? Am I a robot, too?"

"Android. And yes," Diana said. "The commander of our expedition bears a strong resemblance to you, in personality and general appearance." She reconsidered. "I had always accepted it as a fact of life, but now I see what a surprise it is for her to bear such a responsibility."

"That's really neat!" Akko said, ignoring the barb. "Do you want to hear what my Diana is like? Um, what the Diana from the other me's world is like?"

Diana inclined her head. As Akko said, this could be the way home.

" _My_ Diana is the most beautiful lady in all of Starhold," Akko said proudly. "Or _I_ think so, anyway. I got to enter my first tourney in her honor, can you believe it? Everyone knows her for her kindness – she spends most nights working at her family's hospital, and she's helping some scientists redesign the place so it's more sanitary, because she's like a genius! She's pretty silly, though."

"Silly?" Diana echoed. That wasn't what she'd expected to hear.

"Yup! She's a total goofball. She's always playing around, and forgetting people's ranks, and making friends she shouldn't. Aheh, like me. The other me." Akko closed her eyes and smiled. "They say she doesn't understand the weight of her station because her mother, the Duchess, spoils her so."

"That would be a crucial difference. My other self was built, and—" Diana cut herself off. She had no idea how Akko would react to the _other_ reason, but given her history of wild overreactions to everything, why risk it? "Ah, thus, nobody to spoil her. Still, a comfortable existence, all told."

 _That was a lie._ Diana's thoughts were clouding, and it took a moment's focus to clear them. _It's true enough for present company. She doesn't need any details about my human side._

Akko gave her a narrow look, then slid her the book. "Here, see? The problem is, nobody's ever had to undo this stupid thing – it'd always end on its own! There was just way too much power this time. I really messed us up, I guess."

"You might have fared better in normal circumstances." Diana glanced at the diagram and committed it to memory. "This is the book I needed – Lesleigh Woodward's fourth grimoire. Assuming we can determine where the surge of power came from…"

"Oh, that'd be the Ley Spike," Akko said casually, then winced and lowered her voice. "Amanda was trying to filch it to give to the fairies."

"The fairies? Why would she—?"

"Well, what else would she do with it?" Akko snapped.

Diana noticed a spike in Akko's heartrate, but forged ahead anyway. "It was entrusted to Luna Nova for safekeeping. The headmistress is responsible for—"

"The headmistress can sit on a tack! Witches do fun stuff with magic, sure, but the fairies need it to live! They shouldn't have to clean up after us just to exist!" Akko's eyes were bright and hard, like rubies. She clearly hadn't discarded the issue when the strike ended. "Come on, you can be nice when you want to. This shouldn't be so hard for you!"

"Your logic is sound," Diana said. "That's all I can say for now."

Akko looked infuriated for a moment, then deflated. "Oh, yeah, because…"

"I promise that I will consider your words when I'm myself again," Diana said. "But for now, I'm not inclined to risk modifying the basic values that inform my directives."

"That sounds, uh…"

"I don't fully understand my new existence, so I am being cautious." Diana held out her hand and a holographic image unfolded above it, depicting a rough estimate of the Ley Spike's output streaking up through Diana's lens and turbocharging Akko's ritual. "I have some knowledge of ley spikes; lesser versions were used in emergencies during the war by Cavendish medics, and others. We will not be able to reconstruct the particulars, but this should be sufficient."

"How are you doing that? Is that a spell?"

"No." Diana clicked the hologram off and back on. "I deployed it without thinking. The projector seems to be part of my body."

"That's so cool, though!" Just like that, it was like Akko had never been angry. If Diana weren't currently a tireless machine, this would be _exhausting._ "What _else_ can you do?"

"I'm not a toy, Akko," Diana said, injecting some edge into her voice. "Stay on task."

"Right. Okay." Akko squinted at the hologram. "Change this bit, aaaaand this bit. I didn't get it that perfect. Here, can I?" She delicately pinched at the lines of the top magic circle, and Diana obligingly made them move as though she could grasp them. "Here, it was more like this. The circle's still there if you wanna take a closer look."

"Thank you." Diana inspected her diagram. "I think that, between the grimoires here and some of the resources I brought from home, our task looks much more manageable than I had feared. It will just take some time."

"And if we just gotta remember their worlds, that part should be easy. I've been remembering more and more, just like you." Akko said. "How's it feel with that computer brain of yours, anyway? Is it like in a separate hard drive in there?"

"My memories of the android's experiences are not in their own partition." Diana hesitated when she realized where they were, but there was no excuse to hold the information back. "They seem to be overwriting my memories of this world."

"Oh." Akko gazed into space for a long moment, then started to breathe heavily. "Oh, _no._ Wait a second. Is that what's happening? I'm – I'm not sure I remember what you're supposed to be like. Here, I mean! I was even talking about what you'd do, just a couple minutes ago, but I don't remember what I was just saying! Like when I said you could be nice when you want to, what if I was just thinking of my Diana and you're a vile blackguard?"

Diana didn't know what to say. She could see Akko spiraling into panic, but anything she could think of would just flip her into anger.

"The spirit – the one I learned about this magic from – she told me she'd take my memories," Akko continued more softly. "That was the price. If I wanted to be the other Akko she showed me, I'd have to lose my memories of my life. Of… of the life I had here, I mean! D-Diana, I don't know who I mean when I say 'I' anymore! Is she eating me? Am I eating her!?"

"Akko, you need to stay calm."

"That's easy for _you_ to say!"

"It is," Diana agreed. Calmly meeting Akko's glare, she added, "An existential crisis serves nobody. You'll only be able to preserve yourself if you can stay focused."

Akko clutched her the table and rapidly hammered her feet on the tiles, trapping a scream in her chest. After a few deep breaths, she looked up with intense eyes and asked, "So if you're taking over the research side, what about me? I need a job. If I sit around in this library any longer, both of me is gonna go crazy!"

"We'll need to be able to summon everyone quickly when we have a solution. Make sure the others have found Jasminka, and if they haven't, help them." Diana read the start of disappointment on her face and added, "You'll be able to think of places to look that the others won't, and our Jasminka trusts you. I suspect that she doesn't like me, for instance."

"Are you sure it's this Jasminka that doesn't like you? Or is it the other one? I mean your other one, not whatever one she got!"

Diana stared, trying to parse that. "I propose that when we refer to individuals from this world, we call them by their name, unmodified. When we refer to the visitors, we add Prime."

"What sense does _that_ make?"

"In mathematics, Prime denotes a variable that's related to or derived from—"

"Blah, blah, listen: let's call the ones from here Prime, because 'primary!'"

Diana had a number of etymological and philosophical objections, but Akko's way was probably easier. "Very well. When the distinction is relevant, the Akko of Luna Nova will be Akko Prime, and the Akko of Starhold will be Akko Bar. Two complementary subsets of Akko, neither marked as the original."

Akko opened her mouth to argue, then gave her an uncomfortable look. "I thought you'd be more stubborn. You really aren't my Diana, are you? Either of them."

"Diana Prime is still here, Akko." Diana held up a hand. "But please. We now know that time is of the essence. Find Jasminka and let me know if you remember anything else about the ritual. I'll stay here and continue to research our counter-ritual. And if you see Amanda…" She leaned closer and whispered, "Let her know that we might need to steal some more materials."

" _What?_ " Akko recoiled and covered her mouth, almost laughing. She was still on the edge of a meltdown, but that prospect seemed to help. "To hear that from you…!"

"We may find ourselves needing a great deal of power and some rare materials very quickly, and I project that the others will be most likely to cooperate with that kind of plan." Diana half-turned away. "What frequency are our radios set to?"

"Uh, 78.5."

"I'll be listening, then, in case anybody needs me."

"Did Conz give you one, too?"

"No." Diana tapped her temple, then left for the reference counter.

* * *

Akko watched her go, groping for memories of what this Diana should be, but she could only come up with the playful smile and fluting voice of a lady from another world. Not even Diana Bar, but one all her own, unknown to anybody else in this whole dimension. Even the _nice_ things about this situation were terrifying. She took a deep breath and let her fear out in a harsh whisper. "Right! Let's go!"

The librarian goblin perked up as she drew near, and she forced out some cheer. "How's it goin', Secretary?" he asked brightly. "Done scaring everyone away?"

"Yeah, sorry about that," she said, blushing. "Diana helped me work it out. Hey, listen – has Jasminka been through?"

"Who, now?"

"About this tall, pink hair, droopy eyes?" Akko saw her description wasn't ringing any bells. "She probably had snacks and offered you some."

"Oh, that girl! She came through a couple hours ago. Looked kind of spooky today, though." The goblin stood up straighter and adopted a cool expression with wide, calm eyes. "Like this. And no snacks, either. She was real polite, but kinda… you know. Off."

Akko felt a chill. "Did she get anything out?"

"I can't tell ya, of course."

"Sure, sure." Akko started to draw up plans to bribe him, but immediately, viscerally rejected the idea. That was probably Akko Bar, since Prime was no stranger to underhanded tactics. _Oh, right, but I don't want to get this guy in trouble, either,_ she reminded herself. _It'd suck if a union officer got him fired._ With both Akkos in accord, she relaxed. "Thanks, though. And also for the ritual books, earlier."

"Oh, yeah! How'd that turn out?"

"It was—" Akko laughed nervously. "It went great, it was great, yeah. Anyway, see you at the next meeting!"

In the hall, she leaned against a column and pulled herself together, exchanging nods and murmured greetings with students wandering by. At first, remembering Starhold had been a fun mix of nostalgia and discovery, like making friends with herself. Now, it was both a threat and her only hope, and she didn't need _either_ kind of pressure – and if she rested for even a moment, she'd probably just fall apart instead. Oh, and it'd be her job to give everyone the bad news, too. With a grumble, she pulled her radio's antenna out and steeled herself.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Roach_

Scarlet ley lines burned across the pale sky, washing the wasteland pink. Just a few years ago, they'd been ripped out of the Earth like buried ropes, sapping it of its life and cooking its surface with their unfiltered magic. Millions had died and the world's fairies had been scattered into inchoate light, but now the mayhem was over, and all that remained was to grieve and rebuild.

So far, Roach had had a quiet day. Her homestead stood alone in a sea of grain and vegetables, more than all the human labor in the Old Blytonbury area could ever have raised. Her secret was the legion of towering, spider-like Tenders she'd built, mighty robots powered by the ley lines above. Riding one like a mahout, she spent the morning surveying her fields and finding everything in order – a rare event, worth celebrating with a glass of water.

But then, ever since she'd built herself a filter machine like the ones she'd supplied to the surrounding communities, she could have all the clean water she wanted. What luxury!

Roach's afternoon passed in her workshop, struggling with a long-range antenna she was hoping would overcome the ley lines' interference enough to communicate across the ocean. She was just about to give up in disgust and break it down for parts when the proximity detector buzzed. A heavy vehicle was approaching.

Beckoning for a pair of lumbering lifterbots to join her, she set out to meet her guests.

The crawler stopped well short of the homestead's automated defenses, and a tall, spry woman in a long black jacket and wide-brimmed hat swung down from its cabin, hair stained magenta by the ley lines' deadly light. That would be Snake, the bodyguard. Tossing Roach a casual wave, she walked around the crawler's front to help her companion down.

Charmer had been closer to the Catastrophe than any other survivor Roach knew, and actively trying to help as it hit. She wore the turquoise robe of a Declaimer, and, apart from a vivid blue-green eye and a narrow slash of curly brown hair, every visible inch of her was wrapped in heavy bandages. She delicately stepped down, leading with her prosthetic leg, and Snake reached up past her to slam the crawler's door, steadily holding Charmer's remaining arm. The two exchanged a few quiet words, and finally approached.

"Hey," Snake said. Somehow, her flat, nasal voice killed any sense of menace her clothes, height, red eyes, or sharp teeth could have given her. "We've got the parts in back."

Roach gestured the lifterbots forward. They lumbered to the back and cocked their broad heads quizzically, then one started lightly shaking the crawler to see if it could get the parts out. Snake bolted for the trailer bed controls like a startled cat, snarling, "Wait wait wait!" The crawler's canopy hissed open and the world made sense to the robots again. They quickly got to work exchanging machine parts for vegetables.

"I just finished the novel you gave me," Charmer said. "Thank you! I'm not sure if I liked every part of it, but it was still nice to get away from the world for a while. And I can see why that Edgar fellow made you think of me!"

Roach nodded sagely. Not everyone was cultured enough to appreciate fine literature.

"Those guys are just smart enough to be dumb," Snake commented, and snagged a basket of vegetables off of the pallet another lifterbot was pushing towards the crawler. It was impossible to gauge the sarcasm when she added, "Nice job, Roach."

Roach grunted and crossed her arms with a thoughtful scowl. On the one hand, she wanted to be offended on behalf of her creations, but on the other, it was an interesting observation. They were definitely more reliable back when they were less intelligent, but…

"Oh, and we don't have to call you Roach if you don't like it," Charmer said anxiously. "We can come up with a nicer name."

Roach gave her a thumbs-up and did her best to smile. Her feelings didn't always come through on her face, so probably Charmer thought she'd been grumping around all this time. She'd tried to show them how she felt by giving them her finest vegetables, but vegetables were her job, weren't they? And come to think of it, they hadn't seen the less-fine vegetables, so maybe…

"These are the freshest vegetables I've ever seen in my life! Not a spot of mold." Snake almost sounded disappointed, but she was smiling as she passed the basket to the next robot in line. "And what better name than Roach? She's an unkillable little monster!" Roach enjoyed that. "…also, roaches are cute." That was less enjoyable, but she was willing to tolerate it.

"Well, as long as you're okay with it," Charmer conceded.

Roach liked these two. Charmer's fretting was a little annoying sometimes, but having friends who didn't ignore her or treat her like a tiny cryptid was nice. She stepped forward and lightly touched Charmer's arm, then pointed towards the open field beyond her homestead. The land there was still too poisoned to grow crops, which made it perfect for another purpose.

"That's right," Charmer said, with some trepidation. "The test."

"Make sure you're up to it," Snake cautioned.

Charmer shot her an irritated look. "I've been making sure this whole trip. Both of you stay back, okay?"

Roach found it torturous to watch her shuffle out into the field with only a staff for support, and Snake looked away with a frown, but both came to attention when the farmbots' distant clamor faded away. Charmer weaving the spells of her craft, sealing them in an invisible concert hall. Declaimers lent their voices to give what was left of the fairy spirits shapes and hearts, and maybe, hopefully, guide them back towards becoming living beings again.

Charmer sang a long, clear note, and the earth shimmered. Half-formed figures rose from the light and struggled towards one another, embracing and blending into definite shapes. The first image to form was a wiry woman with long brown hair and a set of distinctive scars down her torso in the shape of the big dipper, flaring through her clothes with the green power of the old world's untainted ley lines.

As the song grew more complex, the broken fairies found strength to build a world of light around her. For this wakeup call, Charmer declaimed a story everyone knew: _The Journey of the Star-Marked_ , a warrior and healer striding the wastes on a quest to confront the Southern Cross, the mysterious overlord whose hubris had brought the world to ruin!

Even knowing the story by heart, Roach was at the edge of her seat as the Star-Marked defeated the Dragon of Rastavan and brought peace to the Minotaurs of Monmouth. The fairies' forms grew more and more solid, until Roach could almost believe that she was watching a flesh and blood girl standing between two Minotaur warlords, intercepting punch after punch meant for the other. This interpretation was a little different than she was used to – she'd heard that the Star-Marked was a tall white redhead, for instance – but every Declaimer had their own style.

Finally, Charmer released the spell and dropped into a crouch, gasping for breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "That's all I have. Are you still there?" The ground pulsed beneath her in response and she nodded. "I'll come back whenever I can, okay?"

"So, the fairies here are still kicking," Snake mused. "I'm surprised."

"They were shredded and scorched," Charmer said. Her breath was already coming back, and she had carefully secured the bandages around her mouth again. "But they're still here, and they're getting better." She extended her hand along the ground, squeezing the rippling, unsteady hand that rose to clasp it. "They're like me."

Snake pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes.

"Roach, can you help me up, please?"

Roach rushed over and delicately took Charmer's arm, then held firm as she struggled up and carefully set her prosthetic leg under her. "It seems absurd that it's people like us who have to rebuild the world," she confided, with what might have been a pained smile. "Doesn't it?"

Roach disagreed, but didn't know how to explain it. In her view, it'd be more absurd if there were anyone left who _hadn't_ been hurt like they had.

Maybe Charmer read some of that in her expression, because she patted Roach's shoulder and laughed. "Thank you. I'm always happy to see you, you know?"

Roach nodded.

Snake approached and offered her arm, and the two lightly bickered all the way back to their crawler. Roach followed at a respectful distance and tried to work up some annoyance, but it was honestly nice to listen to human voices without the expectation of taking part. Charmer gave her an awkward hug and Snake slapped her back, then she scampered up onto a robot's shoulder and waved as the crawler rumbled off over the horizon.

Roach realized with a shock that her evening was free, barring any magitronic mishaps. After months of working sunup to sundown, having free time was still disorienting. A quick check confirmed the ambient magic levels were still safe, so she brought her lawn chair up onto the homestead's roof and reclined with a glass of water and a radio. She didn't have much to do but rest, but that was enough.

Just as Roach got situated, a chipper DJ broadcasting from far-off Wedinburgh started reading off the news. Oddly, most of it was good – births, resources discovered, lives saved, upcoming social events. Charmer's next public declamation was soon, which made Roach's heart leap, but she couldn't handle crowds. Better not. The only dark spot was a Demon of Sorrow stalking roads to the south, but that was a long way off, and the people in the region would know what to do. News discharged, the DJ reminded listeners they could radio in with requests and then put on one of her benga albums.

Roach kicked back and let out a long sigh, enjoying the first cool breeze of the evening. It seemed grotesque that she could be happy in a world that had suffered so terribly, but what else was left to do? If everyone let the full weight of the Catastrophe hit them, there wouldn't be anyone left. It was just the region's good luck that one of its survivors was a tough little recluse with a talent for robotics.

Speaking of selfishly benefitting from disasters, the demon sighting meant that someone would have to come exorcise it. There were only a few people in the region who were up to the job, and so hopefully…

Sure enough, the proximity detectors went off again, reporting a single visitor on foot. Roach leapt from the roof and smoothly shoulder-rolled through a cloud of dust into a run. The approaching figure was round and broad-shouldered, wrapped in a dusty white cloak and walking with a heavy cedar staff. The outfit could have been any exorcist, but that deliberate amble was unmistakable. Without thinking, Roach called out a joyful, "Bear!"

Bear's glum face lifted a bit, and she opened her arms to intercept Roach's flying hug. How could someone spend their life walking the wastes and yet feel so soft? Bear returned the hug with a warm hand on her back, working it in a slow circle. For a few seconds, Roach just held her, letting weeks of half-forgotten worries unknot and melt away. Eventually, she stepped back and coughed into her fist, embarrassed. That made Bear truly smile.

Roach wanted to say, 'welcome home,' but her voice had hidden again. Instead, she gripped Bear's wrist and guided her towards fresh vegetables, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. That was the best way to say it, anyway.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Constanze woke from her unintentional nap with a massive headache. She sat up and rubbed her temples, stirring the new memories in with the old. The worktable before her was littered with half-finished devices that could help, depending on how the situation evolved, and a microwave death ray she'd been building just to blow off steam.

"NO PROGRESS," the stanbot sitting at the radio reported when she looked to it.

Maybe it was the pain, or the stress of their plight, or the existential confusion, but she suddenly missed Jasminka so much she wanted to cry.

Conz pointed and a team of stanbots lifted the whole surface of the table away like a litter, giving her a clear workspace. Two more came scurrying with new materials as she beckoned them on impatiently. A few minutes' feverish work produced a long cobalt wand coiling around a slender shaft of cedar, with a tonfa grip and a strap for the user's forearm, all linked to a rewired smartwatch via an ugly magitronic/Bluetooth kludge. She'd never built anything like this before, but she was madly certain of her work.

If Jasminka was still her Luna Nova self in one very important way, this wand would find her. Building it was a betrayal, but Constanze could only hope that her friend would forgive her. Wouldn't it be worse to let her slip away when they were all trying to save her?

The radio crackled and Constanze jolted.

"Hello? Is this thing working?" Akko's mouth was way too close to the receiver, but Conz couldn't spare the energy to have a stanbot rebuke her. "I gotta tell you guys about the ritual Diana's working on."

No news on Jasminka, then. Constanze's heart sank. As Akko nattered on, she hefted the detector and looked anxiously towards the chute back up to her room. All she'd have to do was brave Luna Nova's bright, crowded halls as she'd done since enrolling, but now it was like the weight that rested in her chest and stopped her voice was crushing her into her chair. She'd somehow turned into a Conz who'd spent years in quiet, contented solitude, and didn't know how to find her way back.

Constanze let the detector drop into her lap, sagged back, and listened in.

* * *

"While she works out the circle, we gotta figure out where we all came from, so we can go back," Akko reported, and outlined everything she could remember, with a lot of digressions, self-corrections, and a half-successful impression of Diana's android voice. By the end of it, she was almost feeling confident again, though her heart was still pounding. "…and she'll handle the circle for us. Easy, right?"

"I've got news, too," Amanda said. "I think it's bad." She described the tunnel her team had infiltrated, and the devastated state Jasminka had left it in. "If she went on a rampage, that might be why she's hiding now."

"I can't even imagine that girl going on a rampage," Wangari said.

"Hey, c'mon, haven't you ever seen the 1984 classic _Ghostbusters?_ " Barbara countered, and kept sending to laugh for a second or two.

"Okay, 8/10," Hannah said grudgingly. "I liked that one."

"Next time I see you, Parker," Amanda growled. "I'm gonna kick your ass. Fair warning."

"But Jasminka's so gentle," Wangari protested. "And we're all mostly ourselves, still, right? Who could Jasna Bar possibly be to change her like that?"

"She doesn't have to _actually_ be dangerous," Sucy said. "She just has to be scared that she is. That's why she's always such a softie, right? She doesn't want to think about how she's so strong she could just pull your arms and legs off like you're a spider." Sucy paused to relish everyone's wince. "And that's laying aside her pet dem—ow! Um. Hi, Amanda. How'd you find me?"

Amanda's voice was just audible in the background, snarling, "Shut up!" before she started sending from her own radio. "I'm talented. Anyway, we just gotta remember important stuff from the other side?"

"Well, you gotta be careful to hold on to this side, 'cause You Bar is eating You Prime, but yeah," Akko said. "Something that'll really make the other you wanna go home. Something – or someone – they love, if you can think of it." Akko smiled and waited for Lotte to chime in, but she didn't. Huh. Maybe Lotte Bar was less of a romantic?

Amanda groaned. "Does it have to be so mushy?"

A stanbot suggested, "THEN THINK OF SOMEONE YOU WANT TO SMASH."

"Do you realize what you just said?" Barbara asked, gasping with laughter.

"If you're having trouble thinking of something, come by the cafeteria vestibule and have a talk with me," Wangari offered. "I don't know what Wangari Bar does, but Prime's an ace interviewer. Drawing out what the other you wants to get home to will be a cinch!"

"SOMEONE BRING MS. CONSTANZE ONE OF THOSE PURPLE CRYSTALS TO ANALYZE," the stanbot said. "SHE THINKS THAT SHE CAN USE THEM TO LEARN ABOUT JASMINKA BAR. AMANDA?"

There was a long pause.

"I…" Amanda started.

"I'll go," Akko said. "Just tell me where the tunnel is!"

"Wha-hey! Are you calling me chicken?"

"You wanna come, too? Give me a few…" Akko glanced up and noticed Sucy in the middle distance, watching her from a convenient shadow. Another chill prickled down her spine, but she managed to hide it. "Uh… if you're in, I'll see you at the front door in twenty," she murmured, and turned her radio off.

"Already slacking, Akko?" Sucy asked. She was leaning against one of the columns lining the hall, out of direct sunlight, in a shadow that looked like a wall of obsidian. "I have a potion for that, if you're brave enough."

"Weren't you listening? Diana tagged me out," Akko replied. "Looks like you figured out how to go into the sun."

"Nope." Sucy lightly hopped to the shadow across the hall, fading away in the sunlight as though she were disappearing into darkness. Something enormous rippled around them, but before Akko could react, it was gone. "It's more like this."

"Oh, wow! That's _one_ way to solve it! Is that invisibility, or do you really like not exist in the sunlight? Can you see when you're not there? How far do you think you can—?"

"I need you to hurry, Akko," Sucy interrupted. "I can't stay like this."

Akko sputtered to a halt. "What?"

"The sun thing's annoying, but it's worse than that," Sucy said. " _I'm_ worse." She paused, struggling with whatever was on her mind, then changed course. "That silent room I told you about. It's for working with mandrakes, so the plant's scream doesn't hurt anyone."

"Silent room? What?"

Sucy scoffed in annoyance. "Keep _up_ , Akko. When we were about to do the ritual, and we realized the room was soundproof? I acted like the room I had was for murdering people, to creep you out. But it's not that, it's the mandrakes."

"Oh, okay," Akko said, lost. "Mandrakes. Got it."

"I don't have to try as hard now that I'm _actually_ a creepy monster."

"You—are you okay?" Akko flapped her hands at Sucy's irritated look. "I know, I know! I mean, what's going on, Sucy?"

"I'm _feeling_ things."

"Liiiike… thirst for the blood of the living?" Akko asked with a nervous smile.

"Sure, that," Sucy said dismissively, then frowned. "But also, I look at people, and the way I feel about them grips me." She clutched a pale hand over her chest. "I want to _do_ things – I don't even know what! And after what happened with Lotte…"

"Wait, what?" Akko cried. "What happened to Lotte?"

"She's fine." Sucy averted her gaze. "Probably."

" _Probably?_ Wh-what did you do to her?"

"Rude." Sucy stepped further back into the shadows, beyond where the wall should have been, and turned away. "Just fix this, already."

"Wait, you—!" Akko started, reaching after her, and smacked into the wall that was there after all. In the moment it took to curse and wring her hand, Sucy was gone.

Akko hissed under her breath and took off at a run, pushing past Sola and Rashmi, who'd paused to gawk at her argument with a blank wall. She crossed the campus at a dead sprint, dropping briefly to a powerwalk as she passed Finneran in the hall, then took the stairs to their dorm room three at a time. Akko burst in and finally let out the breath she'd been holding when she heard a gentle snore from the top bunk.

Akko gripped the rail and jumped onto the edge of her own bunk, shaking the bedframe beneath her boots, and checked Lotte over with Dame Kagari's instincts. Temperature, pulse, breathing, tension… she seemed perfectly fine except for the crescent of red marks gleaming from a thundercloud of bruises on her neck. Akko brushed Lotte's hair back reveal the wound, dread and anger building, but they splintered into confusion when Lotte laid a hand over hers and smiled without opening her eyes.

"Oh, stop fretting, Sucy," she murmured. "You can rest, too."

Akko dropped heavily to the floor. She didn't know whether to be relieved or freshly horrified. It wasn't the tenderness, exactly; Sucy had always been (relatively) gentle with Lotte. It was the instant, seismic shift in their relationship. All of them were all sliding around unpredictably, doing what felt right to their new selves, but with an end in sight. Sucy would hopefully go back to her normal self, _but she would still remember drinking Lotte's blood._

And what about her? Akko was already snarling at her lady – no, fawning over her rival – no, bouncing off of a heartless android. She had to do something, but now there was a conniving weasel in her brain, making her want to do underhanded – no, wait, the problem was that the steel cloud of deadly reflexes surrounding her, making her a hard, dangerous person she never wanted to – no, no –

Akko felt dizzy and sick.

She sat on the floor against her bed and looked to the overcast sky in their window. On the highest shelf of Sucy's desk, between her and the watery sun, sat a small wooden frame suspending a wire over a tiny vial. It had been there for weeks, slowly collecting magic and rendering it into a glimmering, vivid green fluid. This was one of Sucy's big projects: a "distilled charm," whatever _that_ meant.

_I'm still the old Akko. She must still be the old Sucy. She wouldn't hurt us. Would she?_

Akko jolted as an emerald drop fell into the vial. _Plink._ It didn't _look_ like a poison…

There was 15 minutes before their expedition, assuming Amanda wanted to meet her. Would that be long enough to pull herself together? Akko clutched her head, closed her eyes, and willed everything to start making sense. "Hnnnnngrrrrr…!" No dice. She needed to talk to someone who was acting like they were _supposed_ to, not another stranger wearing the face of a friend.

Akko stood unsteadily and slapped herself a few times, which actually helped a bit, then hunted the desks and sprang back up to Lotte's side, setting the radio on the pillow next to her. "Hey, Lotte?" she said softly. "Be sure and call if you need anything okay?"

"Akko?" Lotte asked drowsily. "You two are spoiling me so much…"

"Get better!" Akko called over her shoulder, and the door fell shut behind her.

The trek across campus felt like hours, but at least she didn't have to dodge Finneran this time. There was only one person in all of Luna Nova she could go to with this, and she couldn't even remember if they'd be in this weekend. Her hand trembled as she knocked, but they were thankfully quick to answer.

"Akko, what—?" Professor Callistis cried, then paused and really looked her over. Correctly reading that there were Shenanigans Afoot, she cast a furtive look up and down the hall and let her in with a soft, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Ursula, I…" Everything Akko wanted to say crashed together in her skull. Where to even start? "I did something really dumb."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art was supplied by my good friend Fawriel, who you can find at fawriel.de!


	4. Technical Difficulties

Ursula’s room was a sweet-smelling haven of soft blue light. The only sounds were the play of rain on the windows, Alcor snoring on his perch, and now the quiet rush of her stove as she put a pot of tea on. Ursula hovered over it for a moment, then turned back to her guest, suppressing a shiver.

Akko was sitting straight on the edge of her chair rather than slouching against its back, gazing down at her clasped hands on her knees. She’d taken her wand out of her belt and set it on the table before her, as though it were a weapon. Her cloak hung heavily over her shoulders, but she didn’t move to take it off. (That meant trouble – usually, the first thing she did was drop it on the floor.)

Ursula sat down across from her. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I should. I really should.” Akko didn’t look up. “Someone should know, in case I…”

Ursula gave her time. That was one of the first things she’d learned about working with Akko – she couldn’t stand being forced to move at someone else’s pace. It made her struggle just as much in classes she grasped quickly as in the ones where she fell behind. Prodding would just keep her from explaining anything.

“I’m not myself right now,” Akko finally continued. “I-I did a ritual, and I let someone else in, and they’re here, too.”

Ursula tensed, but kept it from showing on her face. She could hear in Akko’s tone that she was going to continue, and it took all her strength not to fill the pause with questions. There were many beings that could possess unwary witch students, and all of them were bad news.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say it like that?” Akko laughed unsteadily. “Because I’m also her. I mean, me. I’m another Akko, visiting here from somewhere else.” Ursula leaned forward and reached out to check her temperature, but Akko’s eyes suddenly focused and she caught Ursula’s hand. Her expression was calm, but unnervingly _sharp_. “Sorry,” she said tonelessly, and let go.

“I don’t understand,” Ursula admitted, retreating. “Who am I talking to?”

“Who are you…?” Akko stared in confusion for a moment, then gasped. “Oh! This has gotta be so creepy for you!” Familiar energy bubbled back into Akko’s voice with her embarrassment. “I’ll try and explain, sorry.” She started to look more and more like herself as she launched into the story of the ritual, tumbling over herself from topic to topic, dissolving into nervous laughter, interrupting herself and backtracking to fill in important details. With her long practice in understanding Akko-ese, Ursula was mostly able to piece together what happened. “So, uh, that’s where I am!”

“Oh, no, Akko.” Ursula covered her mouth, then returned her hand to the arm of her chair with an effort. “You tried to recreate the spell from Wood—from the spirit’s test, didn’t you?”

“Sort of, but I wasn’t giving up, honest! I just wanted to talk to her. Shiny Akko, I mean.” Akko smiled, quivering with nervous energy. Her posture was still reserved, but she looked a lot more like herself now. “I saw her for a moment, in the ritual. I _told_ you she was real!”

“Even _seeing_ another world is impressive, let alone… what happened. It’s highly advanced magic.” Ursula considered going in for a head-pat but decided not to chance it. “This may not be the time to say so, but I’m very impressed, Akko.”

Akko giggled and put a hand to the back of her head. Now _that_ was a familiar pose. 

“But I don’t know how much I can help you,” Ursula continued fretfully. “There are a few experts on that type of magic, but getting them involved would let everyone know about what happened. And you’re trying to keep this secret?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to come to the rescue, Ms. Ursula. We’re working on fixing it, all of us in this mess. I just wanted to come and – and tell you about it. I guess I was just scared. I wanted to explain it to someone who wasn’t caught up in it – to – to see a familiar face, who really was?”

“I understand.” Ursula slid her chair closer and offered her hands. Just as Akko reached for them, the teapot shrilled and Ursula stood with an awkward smile. “Sorry, just a moment.”

“I’m gonna ask you for something really horrible now,” Akko said when she accepted her tea. “Please don’t be mad.”

Ursula sat and took a measured sip. “I won’t be angry, Akko.”

“The more I remember from the other world, the more I forget from here. I’m worried I’ll just… forget it all, and turn into the other me.” Akko glanced at the rippling surface of her tea and chuckled weakly. “It’s really scary when I just say it out loud like that. Uh, but if that happens, can you teach me about this world, again? I – I’ll probably have to leave the school, but maybe we can keep in touch? If something like that happens, I’ll be really lost.”

Ursula did her best to answer, but had to swallow her heart.

“I’ve always been so much trouble for you,” Akko continued. Now she was hunching a little, letting the tea’s steam curl over her face. “But I don’t know how I’d explain this to Mom and Dad, and I couldn’t ask them to accept me if I wasn’t really their Akko. But I feel like I can ask you?” She drew a deep breath and then looked up with somber eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Akko, don’t…” Ursula started, then her voice calmed. “If it comes to that, then of course I’ll help you, and the others.”

“The oth—oh, yeah,” Akko agreed with a wince. “The others, too. Thanks.”

Ursula continued firmly. “But it _won’t_ come to that. You’re going to get through this, Akko.”

Akko’s eyes widened and she straightened up. “H-how do you know?”

“That ritual was designed by one of the Olde Witches – Lesleigh Woodward – before sorcerer’s stones were invented. Magic was unpredictable in those days. Wild. She never would have committed it to her grimoire if a surge of magic would make it irreversible. Even if the answer is lost and you girls have to find it again, it exists. You might be in the best position of anyone in the world to find it.”

Akko lowered her head with a relieved sigh, and a whisper of fear passed through Ursula at the power of her words.

“Also…” Ursula faltered. This part would be a little harder. “I know she’s been good to you, but you shouldn’t go to Croix for help.”

“What?” Akko shot back up. “Why not?”

“She’s not…” Ursula started, then reconsidered. “She may use your problem as a chance to advance her own research, instead of focusing on helping you. She’s interested in Woodward’s work, and there’s no telling what she’d do if she learned of your ritual, or that you’re connected to another world.”

“She doesn’t seem like that kind of person,” Akko protested. “She helped the fairies!”

“Not seeming like that kind of person is one of her talents. I learned that the hard way.” Ursula fought down a spike of guilt, but couldn’t quite keep it from her face. “You might find that you need her knowledge, or something from her lab, but at least be careful, alright?”

Akko looked at her with an odd, open expression for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”

“If we had more time, I would tell you…”

“CAAWW!” Alcor had awakened from his midday nap and spied an intruder. He swooped low over Ursula’s head and landed on Akko’s knees, then puffed out his chest and fixed her with an imperious silver-blue glare. Ursula readied a restraining spell; Alcor was usually docile, but he could really hurt someone if he got too upset.

The two stared each other down for a few seconds, then Akko pulled a face. “Bleaghh!”

“Bawk!” Alcor agreed, then rubbed the top of his head against her cheek and submitted to a caress across his wings. Akko slid her legs out further to let him roll onto her lap, and then she started lightly preening his belly feathers with her fingertips. 

“What a big baby,” she cooed. Alcor clucked softly and kicked at the air. “My lady has a great big hunting bird just like you, and he _loves_ to–” Akko broke off with a frown, but didn’t let her attentions slack.

Ursula settled back. Akko was the only other person that Alcor allowed to touch him, and the only person in the world who could cuddle him like this. If she’d had any doubts that this was her Akko, they’d be gone now.

“Sometime,” Akko said, without looking up. “When we have more time, I’ll have to come back and ask about some stuff that’s been bothering me for a while. Me Prime, I mean. I was kinda afraid to bring it up, but it’s important, and I might not get a chance if I wait. For one thing, I wanna ask about how you got your familiar…” she lightly plucked around the edges of the golden star on Alcor’s breast. “And other things.”

An iceberg dropped into Ursula’s belly, but she only nodded.

Eventually, Alcor fluttered aside and let Akko rise. “Thanks, Ursula,” she said. “This helped a lot.” Akko bent down to kiss the top of Alcor’s head and giggled as he shook it indignantly. “You helped, too!”

“I’ll see you soon,” Ursula said, catching her at the door. “And… I’ll tell you all about it. Everything.”

Akko flittered on the edge of replying, then gave her a brave smile and turned away with a swish of her cloak. As Ursula watched her go, her bangs drifted into her vision, glimmering faintly red in the afternoon light.

* * *

_Memory – The World of the Discovery, Investigation, And Navigation Android (D.I.A.N.A.)_

Polaris Aa and Ab had risen together to drown Polaris B out, and now ruled the pale sky over a stark, rocky desert. Individually, the distant stars might have left Ursae Minoris 3 caked in ice, but together, they scorched its continents barren and drove deadly hurricanes across them, leaving only the hardiest creatures to cling to life in their hidden corners. UM3 would never be a vacation spot – in fact, it was likely that no human would ever set foot on it – but the android explorers found it to be pleasant enough.

Diana waited patiently at the base of a cliff-face, listening to the wind and radio signals without paying either much mind. She wasn’t sure if this was what the others called ‘pleasure,’ but she appreciated having a quiet moment to collect her thoughts without any new demands on her attention. There was plenty of time to finish the next leg of her hike; she would be fine in the double sunlight for at least six more hours, and her partner could probably handle it indefinitely. Speaking of…

“aaaaAAAAA **AAAA** ” _WHAM!_

Another android slammed into the solid rock a few meters from her, and she waved a hand to keep too much dust from settling on her forest green uniform. This ridiculous creature was the Autonomous Command and Control Operator (pronounced “Acco”), officially the leader of their expedition, but mostly just a nuisance and distraction.

“173.2 meters!” Acco announced, springing to her heavily armored feet with a dry _crunch._ As expected, she was completely undamaged; what her model lacked in precision, it made up in durability. She took an unsteady step and caught herself against Diana’s shoulder. “Oop, my gyroscope had to catch up, there! Haha, sorry!”

“I got 172.5 meters,” Diana replied. “By measuring the cliff-face with the built-in laser we both have. From the ground. In three seconds.”

Acco stepped away with a grin, fully recovered. “Ooh, you’re annoyed!”

“I don’t get annoyed.”

“Right, I forgot,” Acco said agreeably. “Anyway, I trust your measurement more. Let’s log it as 172.5 meters!”

A random hardware fault made Diana’s right eyebrow twitch. “Then why bother climbing?”

“It wasn’t just to get the height, silly! I was curious.” She grabbed Diana’s hand and started towards the web of cracks she’d scaled. “Come on, I found something really cool up there! I want to see what you think!”

“Can’t you just beam me a recording—?” Diana started, but her partner was already climbing. She followed after checking her safety gear and donning heavy gloves to protect the sensors in her hands. She was plenty durable by human standards, but a fragile butterfly compared to her fellow androids. Acco could have scaled the cliff in half the time, but instead she clipped a belaying line to Diana’s belt and stayed a few meters ahead, glancing back frequently and carving out easy handholds with her big armored hands. The careful consideration was almost… annoying.

When she finally crested the cliff, Diana discovered the top of a long slope swooping down towards a distant, rumpled mountain range. They had marked the range from orbit, of course, but they hadn’t seen that it was covered in broad, uneven stripes of pale red, orange, black, yellow, and even green. It was a striking, candy-coated break in the desert’s endless sweep of brown and gold.

“Well?” Acco prodded. “What do you think?”

“Strata created by groundwater depositing trace minerals in the sandstone. Iron sulfide, iron oxide, limonite, chlorite, magnetite…” Diana zoomed her vision in as far as she could and leaned forward, searching the distant range minutely. “…among others. It suggests nearby volcanic activity, and recent changes in the weather patterns of this region. Recent in geologic terms, that is. Most likely, we will see more such formations as we continue south.”

Acco nodded. “I thought it was something like that. Anything notable?”

“Nothing that bears on our expedition. These are common minerals in a somewhat unusual configuration. They’re just colors.”

“You sure had a lot to say about ‘just colors,’” Acco observed. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?”

Diana didn’t reply.

Acco glanced at her sideways, then asked, too casually, “Do you ever think about the Doctor’s offer?”

“It does return to me, on occasion,” Diana admitted. “Altering my cognitive hardware carries some risk, but there are times I believe that a broader palette of emotional expression would benefit me in the field.”

“You’re one of us either way, of course,” Acco said. “So don’t let anyone pressure you.”

Diana turned her head slowly, looking at Acco from the corner of her eye. It took a full second to determine how to respond. “This is one such time."

“Aww, you _do_ like us!” Acco cried, then, before she could reply, added, “I’ll bet you need to recharge soon, huh? I’ll have the _Nova_ send a skiff to pick us up, and we can make a new camp here.”

That seemed like an _enormous_ waste of resources. “I can climb down.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Acco insisted, patting her arms. “I don’t want to risk our star analyst, and you always get cranky when we let your battery run down too far.”

“I don’t get…” A distant green flare announced the launch of the skiff, and their argument was moot. She let Acco drape an arm across her shoulders as their ride came in.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Diana realized that she’d just read the same sentence three times over, and still hadn’t absorbed it. She narrowed her eyes, focused, and tried to take it in word by word… but each one slipped through her mind without connecting to the next. She looked up and the library was distant and dreamlike, wandering students drifting through her vision like dust in a sunbeam.

The feeling was familiar to her human side: she was completely exhausted. Of course – Diana Bar’s delicate systems didn’t let her carry an internal generator like Acco’s, so she had to periodically charge. Which could be a problem on Earth of the year 2016, in a witch school where electronics were a new development.

Diana’s mind clouded, partly from fatigue, and partly… she shook her head rapidly, which made the world vanish and then slowly resolve from tumbling pixels. Time to leave. She stood slowly, bending over the desk, feeling a sensation almost like pain through her legs and sides as they took more of her weight.

“Hey, you alright?” the librarian asked, coming to her side. “It’s not the plague, is it?”

“It…” Diana started, and was surprised at how softly the word came. She had to deliberately pour more of her ebbing power into her voice. “I’m fine. I just need to get some rest.” She gathered her notes with clumsy haste. Fortunately, the library cart was nearby, so she just had to get the grimoire to – it slipped from her fingers. She tried again, but her hands were fading into icy numbness and simply refused to close hard enough. She stared at the book in consternation, wondering if the room was really getting dimmer.

“I’ll get that,” the librarian said, and looked up at her with concerned eyes. “Hey, look, you don’t gotta tell me what’s wrong, but you should hit the nurse’s office, alright?”

“Thank you,” Diana said. “That’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay, then. Take it easy, there.”

The nurse’s office wasn’t an option, of course. Diana tilted towards the hall, catching herself from a fall with each step, and tried to make sense of her internal radio. She’d figured out how to listen, but could she…? “I’ve made a mistake,” she sent on 78.5. “I need help.”

“What happened, Diana?” Lotte replied anxiously. She sounded drowsy, too. “Where are you?”

“I need to recharge, but I don’t know how. Or what powers my body. I don’t have that memory.”

“Professor Croix does technology stuff!” Wangari put in. “Maybe she could—"

“No, no, not her!” Akko said. “Not Croix!”

“You—!” Hannah choked on her reply. “Oh. We’re agreeing on this? I thought you were Croix’s biggest fan!”

“Yeah, but maybe, for something like this…” Akko said uneasily.

“Did you learn something? Did she have something to do with—?”

“What are we yammering on for, then?” Amanda snapped. “Where are you, Cavendish? I’m coming to take you to Constanze right now. That’s okay, right, Conz?”

“RIGHT,” a stanbot relayed. “SEND HER DOWN.”

“I’m on a bench by the library entrance,” Diana replied, surprised to discover that she’d dropped onto it. She did her best to fold her hands and look serene; the area she could sense was shrinking, and now she couldn’t tell if anyone was looking. “But I don’t… please hurry. I don’t think I can hold a physical conversation in this state, and I won’t be left alone for long. If I’m taken to the nurse’s office…”

“Real celebrity, eh?”

“Someone will need help.”

“I’m on my way.”

It was frustrating to need help like this, but also familiar, somehow. Diana closed her eyes and waited, taking in the footsteps and chatter, pattering rain, the scents of cooking potatoes and occasional whiffs of perfume, and a nameless, cold, clawing sensation in the base of her skull.

* * *

Amanda had been clear on the other side of campus, but closed the distance at an easy run, with a few judicious flash steps to dodge teachers. She was going to miss that ability when all this was done with. Even though she’d volunteered for the job, she couldn’t help but spend the whole trip grousing to herself. _Aren’t I busy enough?_

As promised, Diana was waiting by the library entrance, nodding slowly with half-lidded eyes. Without her severe voice or confident manner, she seemed very small. A pang of worry spiked through Amanda’s chest despite her best efforts. _Hell, is she even breathing? She looks like a doll!_

A fellow student, Sola, was just approaching her. “Um, Ms. Diana? Are you—?” She broke off with a yelp as Amanda pushed her aside and stomped up.

“Here,” Amanda said gruffly, holding out an arm. “Let’s go.”

Diana silently reached up and took her arm, then allowed herself to be towed to her feet.

“You gonna be good for the walk?” Amanda asked.

“Yes,” Diana said. Her tone was firm, but her voice was almost inaudible. “Of course. Let’s go.”

And she was, for two minutes or so. Her legs started to give out as the left the atrium, and after another few steps, her hands dangled to her sides. She slumped on Amanda’s shoulder with a half-voiced apology and they came to a stop.

“Screw this,” Amanda said, then pulled Diana into a bridal carry and started to jog. “We gotta get you to Conz. People’ll have questions, but who cares.”

“Kind of you,” Diana said.

“Impatient,” Amanda corrected. She dodged around Professor Babcock without slowing and jumped halfway up the first flight of stairs into the dorms. “Also, Conz didn’t invite me in, so I’m gonna just drop you down there. She doesn’t let just anyone into her workshop – you’d better appreciate this!”

“I do.” Now that she wasn’t trying to walk, Diana’s voice had picked up some strength. “I’m logging everything that happens to think about when I’m myself again. In particular, it seems that I’ve been unfair to you.”

Amanda kicked a shoe off and opened the door to Green Team’s room with her foot. “Then you can log that I don’t care what you – either of you – think of me.”

“Logged.” Eyes shut, expressionless, Diana fished the thick folded square of notes from her pocket. “My work to this point, in case I can’t be charged again.”

Amanda started to reply, but then cut herself off and took the paper in silence. As she awkwardly shifted around Diana’s weight to pocket it, Conz’s bed flipped open and the chute descended with a clatter. “I-I’ll make sure everyone gets this.”

“Thank you.” With that, Diana fell still.

Amanda had intended to dump Diana down the chute in a slapsticky fashion, perhaps with an ironic salute, but instead knelt and carefully arranged her limbs. Even though Amanda didn’t like her, she was just so _helpless._ Diana vanished with a _whoosh_ , and the bed clapped shut again. After a moment, the radio crackled and a stanbot announced, “GOT HER.”

Amanda sighed in relief, and then again in disgust with herself. “Hey,” she said, ignoring the waver in her voice. “Can you arm me and Akko for the tunnel, too? Just in case.”

“A STANBOT WILL BE WAITING OUT FRONT WITH SOME AUTOFABS.”

Amanda broke into a smile. A heist was just what she needed. “You’re the best, Conz!”

“MS. CONSTANZE KNOWS,” the stanbot reminded her, but she’d already clipped the radio to her belt and started downstairs.

* * *

_Memory – The World of the Phantom Thief Dasher_

“Thanks, man!” Mild-mannered economics professor Alexander Prescott threw a casual wave over his shoulder and stepped down from the bus. He whistled a jaunty tune as he wove through Lunopolis’s early evening crowds, waved to a superhero zooming overhead, and jogged up the four flights of outdoor steps to his door. He paused there to enjoy his balcony’s view of the river and the colorful Art Deco skyline beyond, but his expression grew more serious as he turned back.

“Is it time?” Alexander murmured as he fumbled though his keys. The apartment he pressed into was small and cozy, stocked with old furniture from his days as a grad student, and plastered with posters, mementos, and pictures of his travels and friends. It was a place to fold his wings after a day of research, or a night of pursuing his vices.

Hanging up his jacket, he looked himself up and down in a floor-length mirror alongside the door, inspecting his own expression and the set of his shoulders and hips. “Alexander?” he asked experimentally, feeling his voice out. “Or Amanda? Hmm? Yes, no?”

“Amanda,” she decided, and the nameless tension abated. With a sigh of relief, Amanda pulled her sports bra out through the neck of her shirt and tossed it aside, mussed her hair out, and wandered into the kitchen for a beer. Being genderfluid was a pain in the ass, sometimes, but it was much nicer than spending half of her days feeling trapped in her own skin and the other half confused and repulsed by her feelings in the first.

Reeling in the still-unfamiliar freedom of an unbooked evening, Amanda tuned into LNN. Having friends who worked there made keeping up with current events a lot more fun, especially when they messed up and gave her an opportunity to rib them later. She’d heard that the Saturnoids had tried to invade again that morning, which meant that her most entertaining newsie friend would be on the case. And sure enough…

“…the rampaging alien invaders. Our star superhero reporter Atsuko Kagari is on the scene!”

“Thanks, Wangari!” Atsuko chirped. She was the very image of a plucky reporter in her brown blazer and short skirt, and even sported an unnecessary press card in the band of her fedora. A taller woman stood at her side, trying – and failing – to avoid looking too imposing in her sleek silver armor. Her visor only covered the top half of her face, but you would have to look closely to notice her small smile. Amanda did, and couldn’t help but get distracted as the wind took the exposed tail of her wavy golden hair and made it dance over her gleaming shoulder. “I’m here with the beautiful and mysterious Silver Sentry, fresh from defeating the commander of the Stentorian Stealth Saturnoids!”

There was a hint of amusement in the hero’s cool voice. “How mysterious can I be if I’m always giving you interviews?”

Atsuko pouted. “It’s just a thing, like how Spider-Man is Amazing, or Batman is the Dark Knight. I’m trying to give you an epithet!”

“It’s a little unwieldy.”

“Oh, just tell us how you saved the day, already!” Atsuko said, obviously struggling not to laugh.

“ _I_ didn’t, of course. As always, it was a team effort.” The hero tilted her head in a way that suggested an eyeroll behind her visor. “But of course, you’re being glib. We got our first warning of the invasion from the Sandpiper.”

“Oh! The Hero from Another Dimension,” Atsuko said, for the benefit of the viewers. “She disappears for months at a time, but always comes back with bad news. Like a crow! Wait, that’s the wrong bird…”

“If you want a mysterious and beautiful superhero, it would be her.”

“Beautiful, eh? You’re lucky we’re not a tabloid! Sorry, go ahead…”

Amanda settled in to enjoy the show. One reason Atsuko got on so well with the superheroic community was that she was just so _cute_ , and always gave entertaining interviews. But more importantly, she had a bottomless well of knowledge about every public hero and villain in the city, and always asked questions that would inform the public, raise her subjects’ profiles, or absolutely _crater_ them – and she wasn’t afraid to do either if they’d earned it. Amanda found herself leaning forward as they discussed the Silver Sentry’s recent battle, wondering if her friend would ask _the question._ She’d put Atsuko up to it over drinks a few weeks back, but there was no telling if she’d actually go for it.

“Thank you so much for your time, Silver Sentry. I have just one more question, for the superhero fans out there!”

“For the fans? Go ahead, then.”

“Have you had any luck in your hunt for the Phantom Thief?”

Amanda slouched back and pumped her fist. _There_ it was.

“Which Phantom Thief? There’s three I know of in Lunopolis alone.”

Atsuko smiled awkwardly. “I mean, the… the Phantom Thief Dasher? They stole the Key to the City from the Hanbridge estate last week.”

“Dasher…” the Silver Sentry’s head dipped in thought, then rose. “Oh, yes, I remember them. That makes four Phantom Thieves. Why would I bother with Dasher?”

Amanda spat her mouthful of beer and shot back up. As though she’d heard, Atsuko sucked a breath in through her teeth and glanced apologetically to the camera. “Aren’t they, you know, your rival?”

“I don’t have any rivals. I’m trying to make this city a better place, and this ‘Dasher’ only goes after people who can afford it. As long as they stick to stealing gold-plated toilet seats from millionaires’ mansions, or whatever it is they do, I won’t be hunting them. Why do people think they’re my rival? Have they tried to call me out?”

“Six times, at least. The callouts are on MyTube, if you’re curious…”

“I see. I thought it was widely known that I don’t respond to callouts. I suppose if this Dasher wants to get my attention, they’re going to have to try a little harder.” The Silver Sentry nodded briskly. “A pleasure, as always, Ms. Kagari. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again after the next crisis.”

“Sure,” Atsuko said, deflated, and turned to the camera. “W-well, there you have it!”

Amanda rose slowly as the anchor asked Atsuko some questions about the Saturnoid invasion, and the various heroes who’d participated in turning it back. “ _They’ll have to try harder.”_ That was something that no responsible superhero would ever say on air, unless they were absolutely confident the villain wouldn’t – or couldn’t – step up. Such arrogance! Such disdain! It pissed Amanda right off!

It _hurt._

Amanda recoiled from the thought. This was a matter of pride, damn it! There was only one thing for it: she’d have to steal something that the Silver Sentry couldn’t ignore. 

“This is Atsuko Kagari, signing off!”

Or some _one._

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Akko was just starting to get impatient when Amanda flashed to her side out of nowhere. _Did anyone see that?_ she wondered, looking around the empty atrium frantically. When she turned back, Amanda was smiling and shaking her head, but didn’t comment as they stepped outside together.

A stanbot was waiting for them just outside the doors, poking its boxy little head out of a decorative shrub. “I HAVE BEEN PROGRAMMED BY MS. CONSTANZE TO SUPPLY YOU WITH TOOLS AND WEAPONS,” it announced. “WOULD YOU LIKE THE USUAL, MS. AMANDA?”

“That’d be great,” Amanda said.

“Hey, are you doing a different voice?” Akko asked.

“Am I?”

“You’re pushing your voice deeper. Or do you have a cold…?”

“I dunno. Leave me alone.” Amanda reached out to accept a bracer from the stanbot. As she clamped it around her wrist, magitronic circuits flared down its length. “Hey, it’s so much lighter! Tell Conz this is great!”

“SHE KNOWS.” The stanbot turned to Akko. “I’VE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO TRUST YOU WITH A WEAPON AS WELL, SADLY. WOULD YOU LIKE THE SAME?”

Akko crossed her arms. “What even is it?”

“They’re called autofabs,” Amanda said, and flicked her arm. With a green flash and soft whipcrack, a rapier appeared in her hand. “’Long as it has power and Conz has the metal in her workshop, I can whip up all the swords I want, or send ‘em back!”

“That’s amazing!” Akko cried.

“Don’t let Conz hear you say that. She gets annoyed.” Amanda twirled the sword experimentally and thrust into the air, then dismissed it before anyone could happen along and witness the swordplay. “She keeps reminding us that she’s just automating spells that already exist. Gets kinda funny about it, but don’t tell her I said so.”

“DO YOU NEED ANY ADJUSTMENTS, MS. AMANDA?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“If… if you’re gonna give me a weapon,” Akko started, looking up in thought. “Can I have one that makes a…” She floundered, trying to suggest a shape with her hands, and then the name popped into her head. “An arming sword?” _What did I forget so I could remember that?_ she wondered, and started wracking her brains while the stanbot got to work on setting another bracer. “Nnrrgh, crap! I can’t remember what I forgot!”

“HERE.” The stanbot offered up a bracer and then demonstrated the motion to activate it. “FLICK YOUR WRIST LIKE SO – MISS CONSTANZE HAS DESIGNED ITS MAGITRONIC CIRCUITS TO RESPOND TO EVEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU. FLICK, THEN TWIST, THEN FLICK TO DISMISS.”

“Made it tricky, huh?”

“YOU DO NOT WANT TO ACCIDENTALLY DISMISS IT IN COMBAT.”

Akko gulped at the thought, but shook her unease off. “Oh, and can you do shields? One of the little Link-from-Zelda ones. A heater shield?”

Dame Kagari knew how to use all kinds of weapons, apparently, but Akko’s clearest, most recent memories were of something like this. Still fuzzy and spotty, though. She called up the sword and shield and took a few experimental swipes. The more she tried to focus on the knight’s memories of fighting, the more distant they felt. It made her a little nauseous. “You fence, right?” she asked Amanda, and instantly felt better. “You Prime?”

“Yeah, but Me Bar’s never even touched a sword.” Amanda chuckled. “Kinda funny – I was just practicing yesterday, but now it feels like I’m rusty. And _you_ get to turn into some kinda badass! What a ripoff! You wanna go a round or two before we head down there?”

Akko dismissed her shield. After another quick check for witnesses, they took dueling stances and tensed to strike.

“GIRLS,” the stanbot said, and the moment broke. “MS. CONSTANZE IS VERY ANXIOUS TO SEE MS. JASMINKA AGAIN.”

“Oh right,” Amanda said, dismissing her sword and snatching her broom from the air with the same graceful motion. “Here, hop on. It’s not far.”

A light snowfall started as they took off, and the morning’s rain glittered on the branches below them. Akko had found most things less intimidating since meeting Akko Bar, but perching on a soaring broomstick wasn’t one of them, even though she’d probably survive the fall. She did her best not to clutch at Amanda.

“Hey, Akko,” Amanda said suddenly. “Do you think you can try calling me, um, Darius?”

“Darius?”

“Yeah, I feel like a Darius right now. Wanna try it out.”

“Dari—is that You Bar’s name?”

“Nah, he’s Amanda most of the time, too, it’s just he’s sometimes Alexander. Neat idea, but the name sucks, right? It’s a secret identity kinda deal. So I’m trying that, but less nerdy.”

“Darius is less nerdy?” Akko blinked a few times. “Wait, he? Didn’t you say ‘she’ earlier?”

“Ugh, don’t make this complicated, Kagari.”

“I’m not the one who’s making it—!” Akko grabbed the broom and screamed as they sharply dove beneath the canopy and popped back up. “ _Watch_ it, Darius!”

Darius threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, that works! I’ll tell ya if it changes.”

“Sure, sure,” Akko said, smiling. “And let me do the talking when we get there.”

* * *

Work had halted at the tunnel. The workers had spread a few awnings over the site to ward snow away, and now the workers were gathered in a makeshift camp, cooking fish over small campfires and idly chatting. Some of the crates from below were lashed under heavily warded tarps not far away, but it looked like they hadn’t gotten very far. When Akko and Darius arrived, the foreman goblin stood and said, “Oh! It’s the Secretary! Maybe she’s here to help.”

“What’s going on, Foreman?” Akko asked. “I thought we’d have to sneak past y—” Darius’s hand slapped over her mouth.

The foreman goblin either didn’t notice her gaffe, or didn’t care. “There’s a big dude down there,” he said. “He’s not doing anything to us, but he won’t let us work. Just keeps pushing us back out.”

Akko pushed Darius away and frowned thoughtfully. “Like, how big?”

“Like the Heavy Lifter Ogre and the Long Hauler Minotaur over there put together – and he’s made of rock!”

Akko glanced over and one of the lounging minotaurs waved with a soft, “Yo.”

“Afternoon!” Akko said, then confidently turned back to the foreman and summoned a sword. “Well, as a union rep, I’ll just have to go down and take a look. If it’s something making work more dangerous, then we can’t very well ignore it, right? C’mon Darius.”

Darius laughed. “Just like that, huh?”

“Look, hey,” the foreman goblin said awkwardly, catching them at the lip of the tunnel. A few other goblins and the Long Hauler Minotaur had gathered behind him. “You know we just brought you on as a friendly face for the negotiation, right? The position doesn’t have that much responsibility! You don’t have to do this, Secretary.”

That stung a little, but Akko had always suspected. She turned back and set her sword across her shoulders, which felt strange without armor to rest it on. “I still wanna help you guys out. Me and Ama—and Darius, here, have a lead on what happened down there! We just have to check it out to make sure, so keep this secret for us, okay?”

The crew turned inward with a jumbled hum of fairyspeak. Akko wished that Lotte were around to translate, which made her think of the bite mark, which gave her a sharp sting of anxiety and frustration before the Foreman Goblin spoke again. “Alright, Secretary, we trust you. Good luck down there.”

“We should hurry,” Darius said. “We can’t ask them not to report this big guy of theirs, so teachers will be coming. I give it twenty minutes.”

“Half-hour,” the foreman goblin corrected. “We sent a slow guy so we’d get a longer break.”

“Ha! Good thinking!” Akko said. “Alright, let’s go!”

Her enthusiasm lasted about ten feet into the tunnel, as they pushed through the first of a few hanging tarps that had sectioned it off. The worklights strung along the tunnel had gone out, with only a dim glow from stands of jagged purple crystal to make up for it. The air was hot and close, heavy with a rough, metallic scent, ebbing with every breath of cold wind from the outside. Their footsteps were muffled, as though the atmosphere were crushing the sound into the ground before it could reach them.

“Stinks in here,” Darius said.

“Like hot metal,” Akko murmured, eyes soft and distant. “In a forge.”

“I was gonna say rust and unwashed ass, but that’s better.”

Akko snorted.

Darius aimed his wand deeper into the tunnel. The crystals there were a deeper purple and caught the light dully. “Think it’s a different kind? Or is that what they look like with less sunlight?”

“JUST GET BOTH,” the stanbot said from Akko’s shoulder.

“And we should see if the big guy has anything to do with Jasna,” Akko suggested. “He might know something, right?”

“I dunno. If he’s big enough to push minotaurs around…” Darius’s expression shifted as he brought himself around. “…then he might be a good fight, huh? Be a shame if we got these cool swords and nothing to use ‘em on.”

The stanbot reached from Akko’s shoulder to swat Darius’s head. “DON’T BE RECKLESS.”

“If you didn’t want that, then you sent the wrong guy. Girl.” Darius blinked. “Person.”

“Yeah, you wanna talk about that?” Akko asked.

“Ugh, God, let me figure it out myself before you get all nosy!”

Before Akko could reply, a chunk of crystal broke free from the wall ahead of them and, instead of falling, swung smoothly to grasp the opposite wall with heavy claws. After a pause to check its grip, it hauled itself out of the hole and settled on four thick, stubby legs, then rolled forward to rest some weight on its long arms. A double row of glowing eyes blinked down the length of its torso, then focused on the adventurers. Its shape might have been a giant tick balancing on its mandibles, or maybe a roughly-hewn gorilla with no head.

A deep “ **protect** ” boomed from the figure and buzzed through the crystals all around them. Lines of white and deeper purple rippled through the walls, like light on the bottom of a pool, and a blast of hot, dry air drove the winter firmly away. 

Darius crossed his arms, looking more annoyed than scared. “The hell are we looking at?”

“The big guy?” Akko suggested.

“Well, no shit. I mean, what–!”

“IT IS A MACHINE, LIKE ME,” the stanbot observed. “THOUGH PRIMITIVE AND UGLY.”

“Aw, I think it looks pretty, sort of,” Akko said. “What do we call it, a minkabot?”

“If it’s Jasna’s, sure,” Darius said. “So what do we do now? It tries to push us out, and we fight?”

“Are you _nuts?_ ” Akko cried. “Look, we have some crystals – I didn’t think it would be so – come on, the foreman was right, let’s just go!”

Darius gave her a disdainful look and summoned a rapier. In the enclosed space, the sound was like a gunshot. “I’m going deeper, Akko.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Akko groaned. “Are you still after the Ley Spike?”

“The hole I made is still down there. I’ve gotta see how bad it is.” Darius flipped his wand into a reverse grip like a dagger and strode towards the hulking machine. “Stay back if you want.”

Akko just stood, conflicted – split a different way from the usual, in fact. Neither the witch nor the knight would have known whether to follow. Just as she screwed up her determination and took a step forward, the monster spoke.

“ **halt.** ”

Darius readied his blade and gave it an insolent smile.

“ **soulform identified. greetings, general o’neil. what is your command?** ”

“Uh.” Darius’s arms dropped to his sides and the tip of his rapier struck a clear note on the crystals at his feet. He visibly wavered between relief and disappointment, and Akko was glad to see him settle on relief. “Tell me what you’re doing here?”

“ **HER MAJESTY has commanded this one to protect the site of her arrival. this one is forbidden from harming the inhabitants of this world. have you come to modify this one’s orders?** ”

“No, that sounds fine,” Darius said. “Do you know where she went?”

“ **no.** ”

“Damn. I need to go down there and take a look, so just let me by, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“ **as you command.** ” The minkabot lumbered to the side and Darius strode past.

Akko hovered uncertainly. _Should I follow? Wait? What’s going on?_

“ **ALERT.** ” The minkabot set its hands against the top of the tunnel and started scuttling for Akko with alarming speed. Its voice blared through the tunnel, but its inflection was still flat. “ **HOSTILE SOULFORM IDENTIFIED. DESTROY. DESTROY.** ”

For an instant, Akko’s instincts went to war – Akko Bar wanted to draw her sword and stand like a proper knight, but Akko Prime was _obviously_ right. She turned on her heel and sprinted for the tunnel’s mouth, screaming at the top of her lungs. The minkabot was fast, but she was flying on wings of panic. _I’m gonna make it!_

Akko’s boot came down in the sunlight, she drew her first breath of fresh winter air—and then a claw snagged the trailing edge of her cloak and flung her back into darkness. Her first landing knocked the wind from her lungs. Stars blasted across her vision in the second. The third turned into a roll, tumbling and jouncing over uneven rock and crystal, and finally she came to rest in a crouch, already summoning a sword to her hand. 

_Shouldn’t I be dead? That should have killed me, right?_ Akko Bar, the hardy knight, had been badly injured from lesser falls, but she was already catching her breath as the minkabot stormed back down the tunnel. She rose and summoned a shield, bracing against its first strike.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait!” Darius cried. He flashed into position before her, arms spread, and the minkabot halted in mid swing. “Hey, stop! She’s my prisoner! I need her!”

“ **the head priestess of the single-minded sect has been marked for death by HER MAJESTY. you do not have the authority to spare her.** ”

Darius struck the wall with his sword. “Does she _look_ like the head-priestess of whatever? Look closer, you big lump! She’s from this world!”

Akko grinned anxiously as the minkabot scanned her up and down with soft planes of purple light.

“ **anomalous soulform detected. checking imperial archive. archive not found. analyzing.** ”

Behind the minkabot, far up the tunnel where it had fallen from Akko’s shoulder in her fall, their faithful little stanbot struggled to its feet and waved both arms at them. _Get back._

“Yeah, good idea,” Darius muttered, backing up. Akko let him bounce against her for a moment, then retreated as well.

“ **analysis complete. subject is not the head-priestess,** ” the minkabot concluded. “ **nor is subject from this world. HER MAJESTY’S order of protection does not apply.** ” It tilted its body to focus its eyes on Darius. “ **nor are you. you are not general o’neil. you are hereby charged with impersonating an imperial official and misappropriating military-grade weaponry.** ”

Darius looked concerned for a moment, then shrugged with a smirk. “Well, whatever, you got me, Officer. What’re you gonna do about it?” 

The minkabot opened its claws and they started whirling around its chunky forearms like saw blades. White light flared from its eyes and spread beneath its armored shell as it started stomping forward. “ **DESTROY. DESTROY. DESTROY.** ”

“Goddamn robots…!” Darius groaned.

* * *

Diana came to slowly. Unlike her awakening in the chapel, her senses only spread in a thin, rippling layer, barely making it beyond her clothes. She lay on a pallet that was much too small for her, the heels of her boots resting on the floor beyond it. Something rested like a boutonniere over her heart (or whatever this body had), but she couldn’t get a sense of its shape or even weight. The cold sensation from before flickered through her head, but it was gone before she could place it.

“Can you hear me?” a soft, unfamiliar voice asked.

“Mm,” Diana replied. She couldn’t spare the energy to say more.

“Good.” Light footsteps pattered back and forth nearby, and the weight on her chest shifted slightly. “Don’t move.”

 _Constanze?_ Diana tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t cooperate. “Who?”

“Shh.” Tiny, calloused hands rested on her forehead and belly. “Still.”

Diana relaxed and let her mind drift. So, Diana Bar’s emotions _weren’t_ distant because she was an android – that experience was unique to her, even among her fellow DIANA units. It was familiar; she was reminded of the walls that Diana Prime had deliberately built, but also of the way that her heart had always seemed to be something separate from her, a dumb animal she had to coax or coerce into behaving as it should. And she’d never experienced anything like the despair that had swallowed her during the ritual. It had felt like a dam breaking, or a crucial weak point revealed…

 _I wanted it to stop. This is exactly what I asked for, and yet…_ Smoothly, without noticing, her perspective shifted between Dianas. _I always wondered what I was missing – what Acco and the others were experiencing that I was not._ In that half-awake state, with her thoughts coming in dim flashes and quickly fading, she felt like she was clearly aware of her new self for the first time. Not an android or a witch, but two souls twined, each desperately asking a question the other could answer. A conversation they could only have in fits and starts because they were thinking with one brain and speaking with one voice.

_It wasn’t an impulsive wish, was it? I’ve always wanted to hide my heart. To forge ahead, without the weakness it gave me. Is that who I am when I ignore it?_

_It’s a miracle that my wish was granted like this. There will be no going back if I let the Doctor alter my code. I never imagined that I could experience another’s heart like this._

Two desires, each met in the other. The ritual disaster had happened so fast, but the consent of everyone involved was supposed to be an essential component. Did the visitors _also_ want to meet them? Was there something that they could each gain from their visit to Luna Nova, that would free them to go home?

It was an electric moment. Diana hoped she’d remember it.

“It’ll work,” Constanze finally said. “I won’t have to open you up.” She coughed and some of the rasp left her voice. “I’m putting you back to sleep, but you’ll be up soon. Okay?”

“Okay.” Diana felt the weight on her chest lift, and immediately started to drift off again. Now that she understood what was happening, the feeling was almost pleasant. Fleetingly, she thought of her research, and the notes she’d handed over to Amanda, but that wasn’t her job now. All she had to do for now was let Conz help her, and recover.

 _Maybe I needed a break…_ The thought was unfamiliar to either Diana, and the corners of her mouth twitched upwards as she slipped away.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Dame Kagari_

Goblin Town stank of lantern oil, splattered on the rough wooden walls and pooling in its streets, oozing down the brick paths in the terraced wheat fields below. The goblins themselves had seen the attack coming from a mile away and scattered into the wilderness, but that left their ancestral home to the mercy of Sir Blackwell and the six retainers who’d joined him on this cruel mission. Of these, five had lacked the courage to face Dame Kagari in battle, and she’d left them tending to the wounds of the sixth. He’d live.

Now Kagari stood on the mountain path onto Goblin Town’s main street, just clear of the glistening rivers of oil leading up to the gleaming silver form of Sir Blackwell himself. She was beyond appalled; even if she could accept destroying the goblins’ home over a petty slight, he was doing it _badly_. It would have been easy to accidentally light his whole team up while they were slopping expensive oil all over, and he was standing _downwind_ as he prepared to set it off. And now she had to cradle the guy’s ego to stop him from finishing the job?

“You humiliated me!” Sir Blackwell snarled, raising his torch. “You thwarted my quest and ruined the name of the House Blackwell… and all for a stupid cup!”

Kagari corrected him for the third time. “Chalice!”

“Oh, who cares!? It’s a cup! It’s a simple, stupid, powerless wooden _cup!_ As if any of those sponge-brains would recognize an object of power if it hit them on their oversized heads!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kagari yelled back. Her plan had been to deescalate, but she was just _so angry._ “Why would you even steal it if that’s all you think it is? Are you just a bully? I can’t believe you! Why even come back here? It’s like you’re playing some kind of stupid game and the goblins are just—!” Blackwell started to lower his torch toward the puddle of oil at his feet and she cut herself off. “Whoa-whoa-whoa!”

Surprisingly, he held off, and fixed her with a glare. “This is no game, Kagari. Do you really not understand what you did? My quest ended in failure, and that disgrace calls for blood. Yours, the goblins’, mine… it doesn’t matter. There must be blood, or I’ll never be able to return to Abhall again!” 

“Look, just-just douse the torch,” Kagari said, holding her hands out. “This is between you and me. We can go somewhere else and have this out, all the blood you want. Okay? C-come on! Don’t you want to settle this honorably?”

“What does a prissy little Starhold dandy like you know about honor? My mistake was humoring you in the first place!” He slid his visor down and set his free hand on his sword. “What a hopeless knight! You don’t know the first thing about our duty! Would you care for a lesson?”

“Sir Blackwell, for God’s sake! There’s stuff they need to _live_ in that village! Please, just because you don’t understand…!” Kagari gripped the scabbard at her hip and slowly took her sword’s hilt. Her eyes hardened, but her expression stayed hopeful. “Louis, don’t do this.”

Blackwell laughed harshly and flipped the torch from his hand.

Kagari drew. It was a technique of her homeland far to the east, designed to turn a draw into a fatal stroke and end a duel before it could begin. Blackwell was a good three meters away, so she let go in mid-draw and her flying sword struck the torch from the air at his side. (This was _not_ a technique of her homeland.) A few cinders fell terrifyingly close to the oil, but the torch tumbled into the brush beyond him, well out of reach.

Blackwell stumbled sideways and failed to get his sword out before Kagari bulled into him with her shoulder. She turned away from a desperate kick and swept his other leg from under him, dropping him onto the soft earth and following him down. Orange light danced over them as they struggled, spreading from the discarded torch. This had to end before its flames could reach the oil.

Blackwell tried to heave her away, but she raised her weight and slammed his shoulders back down. His visor fell open in the impact and their eyes met, icy blue and molten red. They were a knight of conquest and a knight of service, a future lord and a grubby errant. Even if this meeting had ended peacefully, they would have clashed again and again as she rose to protect his prey. But now, as they grappled beneath the growing flames, she drew her dagger.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Akko would never learn what followed. Memories of Sir Blackwell and dozens of other opponents swirled through the back of her mind, but she had no time to dwell on them. The minkabot’s roaring sawblades swept and thrust in the confined space like a boxer’s gloves, filling the tunnel with a scorching tornado. She fell back step by step, weaving around the blows or letting them crash off her shield with bone-shaking force. Her sword was useless in her hand.

Darius’s first move was surprising. Instead of going on the attack, he swept his wand over Akko’s head and conjured her a set of earplugs. Next, he summoned his broom, which rocketed in between the minkabot’s legs and distracted it from a swipe that would have crushed them both. Finally, he shot two meters into the air, as high as he could hover in the narrow space, and bellowed out a spell that turned the earth at the monster’s feet to soft mud.

It was all very cool and strategic. Akko was beginning to think that she’d been underestimating her friend. “Go and check the Spike!” she called.

“What?” Darius squawked, and pulled out an earplug. The minkabot floundered before them, just out of reach and unable to get its footing. “Shouldn’t we take care of this guy?”

“Take care of—what are we even gonna do to him? You wanted to see what’s down there, so go, and then we can leave!”

“Huh.” Darius gave her an uncertain look, then grinned. “Back in a flash!”

Akko turned back to the minkabot, which was just hauling itself free. _I’m an idiot._

Instead of attacking with the saws, it spread its arms and sprang with all six limbs towards her. Akko froze in terror for an instant, but then her selves clicked together in a new shape, the witch’s spell came out with the knight’s reflexes. “ _Metamorphie Faciesse!_ ”

The minkabot belly-flopped with a thunderous crash, then rose slightly, searching for any evidence of a smushed witch. The mouse scampering past its heels, ears stuffed with bright orange plugs and trailing a little blue cloak, was beneath notice. Unfortunately, Akko ran up against Darius’s patch of mud, an impassible sea in this body. _Crap! Can I hide?_

As the monster rose, she realized she couldn’t. Darius would be coming back up the tunnel any moment, hopefully, and she couldn’t leave him to face it alone. She poofed back into her natural shape, turned on her heel, and struck her sword against her shield. The minkabot ponderously turned and regarded her, the glow of its eyes flickering and blinking in an uneven pattern.

 _I can’t back up!_ Akko realized, snatching her boot away from the sucking mud behind her. The minkabot advanced a single step, cautiously, and her heart sank. _I wish I could turn it solid! If I was any good as a witch, I’d…_

A few green bolts shot over her head and spattered against the minkabot’s torso; whatever sound they made was too soft to make out through the earplugs. It turned sideways as Darius zoomed past it, and extended a claw towards each of them, edging back and then forth like a crab. An ugly white pattern was slowly spreading from there the bolts had struck. _What is that? Did he figure out how to…?_

The minkabot lunged towards her and snatched at her shield. She released the shield’s strap and summoned a new one as the old crumpled in its grip. While the monster’s arm was still extended, she took a step past its hand, spun sharply, and struck at one of those white scabs. Her sword bit deep with a grisly _crunch_ – the weakened shell gave even more easily than… than…

She couldn’t remember what she was comparing it to, and there was no time to think. The minkabot wrenched the sword from her grip, and turned to swing its other arm at her. She raised her shield and jumped with the blow, sprawling into the mud. _I’m gonna die,_ she realized, struggling to rise. _It got me! I’m stuck! It’s gonna–_

“ **alert. this one is receiving new orders,** ” the minkabot announced, and sat down.

Silence fell.

“Aw, come on. Don’t you still hate us?” Darius asked. He hovered up to its side and rapped on it with his sword. “Hey, hello? I didn’t even get to use this thing!” When it didn’t respond, he gave a disgusted _tsk_ and drifted further along. “Akko, you alright? Akko?”

Akko sat up and huffed and swallowed a few times, then blew her nose on her cloak. It took a few moments to process her reprieve, and a few more for her heart to stop exploding. She lifted her sword, then tossed it away like a snake when she saw the splatter of purple along its length. A memory hit her between the eyes, but vanished when she tried to focus on it and left her stomach roiling. The stained blade had reminded her of… nothing, apparently.

Darius landed before her. He sounded more befuddled than anything when he asked, “Are you… gonna cry?”

Akko pursed her lips. “Gonna be sick,” she said thickly. “I keep… I’m trying to remember something, but…”

“Maybe let it go?” Darius suggested, eying the sword nervously. After a moment, he shook his head and knelt to scrape some of the goo into a bowl-shaped crystal sample. “Maybe it’s something you don’t wanna know.”

“Okay,” Akko said miserably. She stood and shook herself off, lighting up. “Okay! So! We got the crystals, right? Let’s —!”

The minkabot flashed deep purple then blinding white, like distant lightning. With that split-second’s warning, Akko summoned a shield and stepped in front of Darius.

**BOOM**

A fist of air dashed them into the tunnel wall at an angle, rolled them against it, then tossed them to the floor in a clattering rain of crystal chunks. Akko had the presence of mind to hold up her shield to keep the debris from their faces, then let it drop as the dust cleared. For a few seconds, they sprawled side by side on the floor of the tunnel and stared dazedly at the ceiling.

“I think I’m Amanda again,” Amanda announced.

“WHAT?” Akko asked, then popped the earplugs out. “Sorry. You’re Amanda again?”

Amanda flashed up to her feet and wobbled, catching herself on the wall. “Yeah.”

“Welcome back, Amanda,” Akko said dully. The ringing in her head was steadily fading. She’d never before appreciated how outrageously tough witches were. Would Akko Bar have been deafened, even with the plugs?

“Jeez.” Amanda offered Akko a hand up. “For what it’s worth, it looks like the hole I made healed up. You gonna be okay?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Blood was running down Akko’s cheek from somewhere on her scalp, but she’d gotten worse from broom practice. She sagged into Amanda for a moment, then stood tall. “What about you, Stanbot?”

“FUNCTIONS NOMINAL.” the stanbot reported, holding up a tiny OK sign. It had wisely retreated a long way up the tunnel, and only now was toddling back to their side. Akko scooped it up onto her shoulder and sullenly trudged for the distant sunlight.

Amanda jogged to catch up. “So, I guess me from Jasna’s world is some kinda narc?” she asked loudly, puncturing Akko’s gloom. “A general, even? What the hell, right?”

“And I’m a priestess over there,” Akko agreed. “How about that? I’m not even religious – neither of me.”

Amanda chuckled. “Yeah, like, it’s weird to think of you worshiping anything but Shiny Chariot. Or do you think she’s a god over there? That’d be pretty… what’s wrong?”

Akko’s expression had hardened, but it wasn’t at Amanda. “It feels familiar, is all. Like just then, when Me Bar is trying to keep stuff from Me Prime, and my head gets all mixed up when I try to think about it?” She mashed the heel of her hand into an eye and groaned. “I was feeling that way even before the ritual! Like part of me was hiding something I already knew. It was really messing up trying to have fun thinking about Shiny Chariot!”

“It’s gotta be bad, if it’s messing up your Chariot obsession.” Amanda threaded her hands behind her head. “Not that it’s any of my business, but that sounds kinda…”

“I know, I know!” Akko groused. “Dumb, crazy, whatever. But I figured it out. I’m taking care of it. I’m just mad it took me so long.”

“I was gonna say ‘shady,’” Amanda said. “Like you know something that the FBI would be – wait, I mean, _MI5_ would be after you for.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Akko said. “It’s just something that hurts, I guess. Anyway, let’s hurry up and find Jasna.”

“Right. Right, that’s what we’re doing. Race you?”

“Oh, grow up,” Akko scoffed, then pushed Amanda backwards and took off at a sprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in early 2019. Characters joking about "the plague" feels different now, doesn't it?
> 
> I'm still uncertain about how to tag some things. I would normally not bother to tag pairings that only appear as side elements, but I learned that a lot of people use Ao3's tags to avoid things they don't want to see. With that use in mind, it feels more sensible to make sure everything is up front. Maybe I'm overthinking this! This is the first time I've done a big release on Ao3, and it's a whole new world to me.


	5. Recovery and Repair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Note: This chapter has a character talking about the feeling that nobody would miss them if they disappeared, a type of suicidal ideation. If that's something that'd be rough to read, be advised.
> 
> Also, please enjoy more art by Fawriel at the end.

Lotte couldn’t decide what looked different about Wangari. Luna Nova’s star reporter was leaning back in her chair against the cafeteria vestibule’s west wall, arms spread wide, in a yellow sport coat and long tan slacks. She usually had a big presence, but now she was effortlessly commanding the room. The other students scattered around the vestibule kept stealing glances with wide eyes, murmuring over them in clusters, but none dared approach. 

_Charisma,_ Lotte realized, with an off-kilter feeling that was somewhere between professional respect and envy. _She always had it, but this is a new way to use it._

“Hey, Lotte! You look nice,” Wangari called, grinning. “I’m loving the ascot! Have a seat, here – I just got a new tape in from Hannah’s interview, so we can get going whenever you’d like.”

“Thanks.” Lotte sat across from her and arranged herself delicately, back straight, legs crossed, hands folded atop her knee. The two Lottes pulled against each other, but instead of making her sick and conflicted, they just deposited her gently in an easy middle ground – a little nervous about this dive into her memory, but more than ready.

“Are you alright with me recording the interview?” Wangari asked. “And I may ask Joanna to transcribe it later, so you know. Unless you tell me not to, but that’ll make me really cranky!” Her laugh was somehow sharper than Lotte expected. That another difference – her _voice._ Even calm and casual, it had a decisive, cracking quality she’d never heard from Wangari before.

“Oh! Does she know what happened to us?”

“I’m gonna tell her, of course. when all this is over. That is, if she even wants to—” Wangari’s eyes darted to the side for a moment and her expression darkened, but then she shook her head and reeled her gaze back. “I mean. Look, your covens are all in on this, but I’m alone. Imagine having your soul spliced like this, and then never being able to tell Akko or Sucy about it. I like you guys, but if I don’t let my girls know what happened to me, I’ll still be alone. Understand?”

Lotte nodded somberly. “I understand. Please go ahead, with both.”

“I knew you’d get it.” Wangari pressed a button on the tape recorder at her side, laced her fingers, and set her chin on her knuckles. “Hello, future Wangari! This is your interview with Lotte Jansson! It’s 4pm on Saturday the… I already forgot the date… uh, it’s in the Hannah interview! Sorry, whoever’s transcribing!”

“Is it 4 already?” Lotte asked, mortified.

“Yeah, I heard you had to get some rest,” Wangari replied. “What happened with that – were you hurt in the confusion, right after we all woke up? Should we start with that?”

Lotte tugged nervously at the ascot around her neck. “No, I—no. Let’s not talk about that. So, I’m supposed to tell you about my – Lotte Bar’s home? The world th-that the visiting me came from?”

“Yeah. But I’m also going to ask you a little about Luna Nova, too. In case, you know,” Wangari’s smile turned a little grim and she flapped a hand away from her head, miming memories flying away. “The ritual doesn’t work out.”

“Right,” Lotte sighed.

“But can we start with Lotte Bar, if you’d like?” Wangari suggested. “I do want to hear about a world I’ve never seen, after all!”

“I can do that,” Lotte agreed. “Lotte Bar attends a private girls’ school in Blyton– I mean, _Glaston_ bury – called Regulus Academy. I go by ‘Jan’ there, from my last name, because I got tired of everyone pronouncing ‘Lotte’ wrong. Funny – I never noticed how everyone here mostly gets it right.”

“Does that make you Jan Jansson?”

Lotte grimaced, then laughed uncomfortably. “Wow, that really annoyed me. I must get that one a lot!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Wangari said. “I didn’t know you’d have the song on that side, too. So, what’s Regulus Academy like? It sounds fancy.”

“Oh, it is! It focuses on the fine arts. Lots of the students want to be animators, especially, but some do other things. Like me! I sing, mostly. I’m an alto in the school’s choral society, and I direct a little chorale group on the side.”

“An alto? That’s at the deeper end for women, right?”

“Oh, yes, and Lotte Bar’s at the deep end of that… when there are contralto parts, I always get them. I grew up a little differently in that world, so my vocal range is different there. I’d be a soprano if we had a chorus at Luna Nova!”

“Gotcha,” Wangari said easily. “So, you sing _here,_ then? Lotte Prime sings?”

That brought Lotte up short. “I’m – not sure why,” she said haltingly, “But I – guess I don’t want to talk about it? I have kind of a hard time with, um…”

“No problem – consider it dropped. Any other activities at Regulus, then, or is singing your main thing there?”

“Well, I’m one of the regular directors in the drama society, and I know enough about music theory to take part in the guest-instructor program. They offered me a job as prefect, but that felt too, ah, too arbitrary. Not the kinds of rules I like.” Lotte considered, letting memories unroll with a feeling like stretching stiff muscles. “I also organize parties… not wild ones, so much, but lively, and the big cliques all like me well enough that they’ll pretend to get along at them. It’s helpful for people who want to network outside of their usual circles. Oh, and of course I have a few close friends I steal some time with…”

“It sounds like you’re a bit of a queen bee,” Wangari observed.

“O-oh, I wouldn’t say that!” Lotte said, blushing. “I just… know how to ask for things.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“It’s something that wouldn’t have occurred to me – M-me Bar, I mean – before coming to Luna Nova. I’m not _so_ different at Regulus Academy, I think, but everyone treats me differently there, and it makes me _act_ differently. The power I have there isn’t inside of me, it’s… what the others give me?” Lotte clasped her hands on the table. “It isn’t a place like Luna Nova, where people can build a magical force up on their own and then unleash it to make things happen. They have to persuade everyone else. It feels like magic, but it’s not.”

“Hmm. I think that Luna Nova might be more like Regulus than you think,” Wangari said. “You look at someone popular like Diana, or Chloé, or even me, and… hm…”

Lotte cocked her head. “Yes?”

“I don’t wanna be dismissive. I just think if everyone here rallied around you the way we do Diana, decided _you_ were the Pride of Luna Nova, I think we’d all find out you could do some amazing stuff. Don’t get me wrong, Diana’s incredible, but it’s not just…”

“Honestly, that sounds mortifying,” Lotte admitted. “Lotte Prime likes to keep her head down. It’s funny – we really do want different things, but I never really feel like I’m fighting myself, like I’ve seen with some of you.”

“Do you think it’s a personality thing? You’re both easygoing girls, wanting to get along, so you just work it out?”

“Don’t make it sound _that_ easy!” Lotte said with a laugh. “I think it’s more, hm… we’re both used to not being at peace with ourselves, and having to figure out who we are. No comment on that, of course.”

“Of course. So, the next thing I wanted to ask about was those friends you mentioned stealing time with! Anyone we know?”

“Well, I have an Akko,” Lotte said brightly. “But she’s different, too. Very timid and quiet – took weeks for her to come out of her shell, and I never knew why it was to me. I wonder if she…”

The radios at their belts crackled, and Akko announced, “Mission accomplished! We’re on our way back with the crystals!”

“I should go see to them,” Lotte said, standing. “They’re probably hurt.”

“Oh, you know healing magic?” Wangari asked.

“I do and I don’t,” Lotte said with an anxious smile. “Like I said, I know how to ask for things. It’s—it’s like the singing, I think. I’d rather not get into—”

Half a meter behind her, Barbara yelled, “Boo!”

“ _Oh!_ ” Lotte whirled and her legs bounced against the table as she tried to jump back. She ended up nose-to-nose with Barbara, close enough that her glasses gave her a fishbowl view of ocean-dark eyes, breathing a soft fragrance. Blue violets and amber? _Why do I know that? I don’t know anything about perfumes!_ But no, the scent was somehow familiar…

“That wasn’t a scared ‘oh,’” Barbara observed, grinning. “Glad to see me?”

Lotte turned bright red and her voice died in her throat. All she could do was huff and give Barbara a push, which made her drift back weightlessly, dragging the toes of her boots along the ground. Right; uncanny wraithlike weirdo. As if this situation weren’t confusing enough.

Barbara dropped her heels a few feet back and tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“Wh-what?” Lotte snapped. She’d broken into a sweat, her heart was pounding, and warm tingles in her cheeks and hands lured her forward in a slow, dreamy step – but then she caught herself and rocked back. This was _not the time._ “What is it?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. This isn’t your usual skittishness!” Barbara’s voice dipped and rose, just short of sing-song. “Is there something I should knooow?”

Lotte drew a deep breath. Her face was going to explode. She had no idea what she was about to say.

“Barbara, lay off of her.” Wangari’s dry, flat tone knocked them both off-balance. “You’re overdoing it.”

Lotte shuddered, skewered on twin spikes of gratitude and resentment. _I didn’t need to be saved!_ half of her raged, while, at the same instant, the other half lamented, _Why do I always need someone to save me?_ She let the breath out in a soft, “Thanks. I just needed a moment.”

“But, hey,” Wangari continued, brightening. “Looks like you just remembered something important, Lotte! Want to talk about it?”

Stomach churning, Lotte looked between Wangari’s eager eyes, and Barbara’s cool, mocking smile. “ _Vittu tätä paskaa,_ ” she muttered to the floor, then raised her chin and announced, “I’m going to go help Akko. I’ll finish up with you later, Wangari.” She did her best to leave gracefully, without slinking or stalking.

“You think I really upset her?” Barbara asked, just as she was passing from earshot. Lotte was sorely tempted to turn on her heel and scream “YES,” but kept it in. It wasn’t really her fault… at least not any more so than her usual mean girl routine. How could Lotte hold _this_ Barbara responsible for her history with totally different one?

Her _very confusing_ history.

Once she was safely out of sight, Lotte took off her glasses and slumped against the wall, lightly bonking her head on it a few times. Her selves had agreed that she didn’t need to remember any intimate details of Lotte Bar’s romance with her Barbara, but she couldn’t do anything about her pounding heart, or that intense, magnetic urge to go in for a kiss.

And now Lotte’s selves were sliding apart to escape the two Barbaras dancing through her brain, and nausea oozed from the space between them. Lotte Prime had eventually learned how brush Hannah and Barbara’s bullying off, but now she was caught between memories of being lovey-dovey with her tormentor and enduring a semester of her girlfriend’s cruelty. She could tell herself it was a different girl, but it was the same face, the same voice, the same _scent…_

“Why’s she wearing perfume, anyway? Does she just _do_ that?” Lotte hissed, clutching a hand over her eyes. “No, don’t cry! Show some _sisu,_ for God’s sake!”

She swung her head back again, but this time the wall was gone, and a breath of cool, sweet air flowed from the dark. Roses, not violets. Lotte smiled, knowing that Sucy would be there if she turned, standing in the shadows just beyond the wall. The fearsome vampire was here to check on her, though of course she’d pretend to be unconcerned. As Lotte set a foot to turn, though, a terrible thought crashed across her mind and her eyes flew wide in horror.

_When I asked Sucy to bite me, was I cheating on Barbara?_

What could she do with that idea? It stopped her brain cold. Reduced to her primal Lotte instincts, she yelped, “S-sorry!” and bolted.

Lotte realized how silly her reaction was after a few steps, but a glance over her shoulder confirmed that Sucy had gone. Never one to wait around, that girl. She’d have to explain herself later.

For now, she just needed a minute or two to pull herself together. Then she’d be able to help Akko and Amanda, and that’d make her feel better, too. Already, the bullying memories were fading, stuffed behind the same black door that held Lotte Bar’s memories of love. Was that a relief, or freshly worrying? How much of Lotte would be left when all of this was done?

Lotte took a deep breath and slapped a brave smile on. _How does Akko make this look so easy?_ she wondered. The thought was disorienting to Lotte Bar, but she didn’t dwell on it as she set out with deliberate spring in her step.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Barbaracelli the Fool_

High in the Bregenz Forest Mountains, a traveler trotted lightly along a gravel road, ragged cloak flowing, walking stick clacking every third step, heavy pack swinging. She had a long hike ahead of her, unless a kind stranger took pity on her and gave her a lift. But the sun was warm, the breeze was cool, brilliantly green trees swayed all around, and fat white clouds drifted contentedly across the deep blue sky.

“Hitchhiking is the plan, then,” Barbara said cheerfully. “But, oh bother, it’s so hard to look convincingly miserable on a day like this!”

The sun tracked across the sky, and lazy birds flapped overhead. Barbara sang to herself for a time but decided to save her breath as she started tromping uphill again. Just when she started looking for a soft place to lie down, a wagon pulled up alongside her. The side was covered by a colorful sign, green and yellow starbursts radiating from baroque lettering outlined in vivid red. It read:

_Dr. O’Neil’s Miracle Cures_

_Seltzers, Drops, Pills, and Candies_

_Headache? Heartburn? Constipation?_

_LET ME AT ‘EM!_

“Need a lift?” the driver called down. They were tall and slender, their long orange hair tied back in a tail, and wore a sharp burgundy suit with a ruffled cravat. Noting that the jacket’s sleeves were designed to be easily pinned back, Barbara guessed that this must be Dr. O’Neil. She couldn’t get a read on their gender, even from their voice.

“Where you headed?” Barbara asked.

O’Neil laughed. “Down the road! What’s it matter beyond that?”

Barbara weighed her odds of getting robbed, but relaxed as she looked the traveler up and down. _I can take ‘em,_ she decided, and hopped up. “Many thanks, friend!”

“Always good to have company on this road,” Dr. O’Neil said. “Keeps me awake.”

“I’ll do my best to entertain, then!” Barbara said. “Oh, but I won’t overdo it. I can be a bit much.”

“That sounds like a challenge. I can take anything you can dish out!”

Barbara snorted. “If you say so, Doctor. So, what do you do? Is this a traveling practice?”

“I sell my seltzers and miracle cures, of course. Didn’t you see the sign? Sometimes I do oratory for hire and write speeches.” Dr. O’Neil chuckled. “Oh, and a bit of light banditry, but you don’t look like you’re such a rich mark! No offense.”

“Banditry, eh?” Well, Barbara was already on the wagon; no point in getting worried now. “I get the feeling that you’re not a fully credentialed doctor.”

“That’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it? If my remedies cure what ails you, what do you care if I have some piece of paper or another?”

“Very philosophical,” Barbara said approvingly. “I’m convinced! Though, of course, you’d only need to say something like that if you got your MD at my old clown college. Maybe that’s why you seem so familiar.”

O’Neil threw back their head and laughed. “And what do you do? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a costume like that.”

Barbara glanced down with a bashful smile. “Oh, this isn’t my costume,” she admitted. “That’s in the pack. I just have terrible fashion sense!” She sprang to her feet on the seat and threw her arms wide, flaring her cloak dramatically. “I’m the famous Barbaracelli the Fool!”

“Uh…”

“Well, I’m not _that_ famous. At least not in the circles of doctors or brigands!”

“So you really are a clown?” O’Neil’s eyes flicked between Barbara and the trail before them as they started to trundle around a tight corner with a sheer cliff to one side. Jagged gray mountains and soft blue mist stretched to the horizon beyond. “Careful up there.”

“Not a clown, a fool!” Barbara corrected, striking a pose. “It’s a higher calling! We turn our barbs to the pompous and haughty, and puncture them! We reveal the weakness of the mighty to their face, and then dance away!”

“Sure, okay, I see,” Dr. O’Neil said agreeably. They didn’t seem to be taking Barbara seriously, but that wasn’t the point, was it? “Is ‘Barbaracelli’ even a real name, by the by?”

“Of course not. I added the ‘celli’ to sound more exotic. The insults are easier to get away with if people think you’re from far away!”

“Heh. Well, if you keep heading south, you might want to change that one. They actually know what it means, down there.”

“Oh, yes. I don’t want my name to be an insult to the locals; fools have to aim carefully!” Barbara stood looking out over the mountains contemplatively. Imagining the noble figure she cut made her giggle. “Maybe Parkersdottir the Fool? That would sound exotic down south…”

“I’ve never had such a squirrely passenger,” O’Neil said. “Sit down, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

Barbara plopped into the seat next to them. “How do you make the seltzers?”

“Trade secret!”

“Suspicious.” Barbara considered. “But then the brews of witches and wise women are secret, too. Are you a wise woman?”

“Wise, yes. Woman, no,” O’Neil replied. “Nor a man, in case you’re wondering. I’m just a simple person trying to make an honest schilling.”

“I see!” Barbara said. “That’s not something I can make fun of. Oh, but that leaves me without anything to babble about! I could start in on your hair, maybe…”

“So, you fools go looking for powerful people to insult? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“A bit! But it’s our job, and they know it’s our job, and it makes them look good to put up with us. If they’re secure in their power, they’ll think nobody will listen, anyway! Oh, they’re usually wrong, but they all think that.” Barbara considered. “Also, your hair is actually really nice. Not much to mock there. I feel like you’re not getting your ride’s worth!”

“I don’t know,” O’Neil said, and their smile grew crafty. “I’m starting to see some ways our talents could mesh, if you’re interested… now, be honest, you’re really able to put on your costume and tromp on into the halls of power?”

“Not so powerful… it is a dream I have, though.”

O’Neil nodded patiently. “A dream, huh?”

“I don’t know if it’ll ever happen,” Barbara said, then stood again. “But someday I’d love to tell a king or a queen how pathetic they really are! Even if I never get to, though, I’ll know I was worthy of it! _Whoop!_ ” She crouched and gripped the wagon’s rail as they plunged down a steep hill towards a bridge over a rushing river. As soon as they leveled off, she sprang back to her feet. “I’m going to crawl on up as high as I can, and then bite as deep as I can!”

 _Thud-thunk_ went the wagon’s wheels on the bridge’s planks.

Barbara wobbled and caught her balance. She was too excited to sit, now. “Last time it was the mayor of Bregenz. I exposed his petty hypocrisy to the citizens, and everyone was having such fun that he couldn’t do anything about it! I had the whole Town Hall rolling in the aisles! Maybe next time-—!”

“Get down, you idiot!” O’Neil barked.

“Wha—?” One of the bridge’s crossbeams clipped Barbara’s head and she fell from the wagon.

The river knocked the wind from her like a pratfall on a hard stage, then clapped over her face before she could draw another breath. Pain flared from her knee to her shoulder to her head like lightning, then faded in the cold. She was too stunned to react or even think, but it wasn’t so bad… in fact, the icy water cradling her as she sank was almost comfortable. 

* * *

_Luna Nova_

“Wh-what happened next?” Wangari asked.

“I drowned,” Barbara said. “I think.”

Wangari opened her mouth to laugh, but all that came out was a little strangled sound ending in a hopeful question mark.

“You’d better make sure the tape recorder is actually picking me up,” Barbara suggested with a smirk, and her hair slowly lofted as though she were underwater. The light around her had a faint greenish tinge, and the dark blue of her eyes jumped out piercingly. It was a pretty effect, as long as Wangari didn’t think too hard about what it meant.

Wangari fumbled for her recorder and lifted half of the headset to her ear. “Yeah, it—" She faltered, looking from the recorder to her interviewee. “It’s getting you.”

“Are you tearing up?” Barbara asked, tilting her head, leaning in. “Why?”

“Well, it’s sad, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Barbara drew back and shrugged. “I just didn’t think it’d hit you so hard. Unless Wangari Bar is friends with her Barbara?”

“No, I just…” Wangari paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I usually have better journalistic detachment than this. We’re not close, no, b-but that doesn’t mean I don’t care if you _die_. Especially not like that! That shouldn’t happen to anyone.”

Barbara shrugged again. “You asked.”

Wangari set her chin on her fist and looked at Barbara pensively.

“What?”

“If—when you split up again, and Barbara Bar goes home, what do you think will happen?”

“Barbara Prime gets a new perspective on…” Barbara waved her arm lazily. “All of this, I guess. The two of us are giving that one a lot to think about. And Barbara Bar? Who cares? That one’s dead.”

“Why would I ask if–?” Wangari started, then looked away in embarrassment.

“Well, _stop_ caring,” Barbara said with good humor. “I’m resting in peace, so don’t go making this hard on me! Oh – and don’t tell Hannah any of this. She’s torn up enough already, and I don’t want to deal with that getting any worse. Or, uh, for her to have to. I swear I’m saying this to be nice, it’s just hard to talk straight right now. Everything has to be… not funny, but at least a joke?”

Wangari floundered, then settled on a new tack. “You’ve been talking a lot about having standards, when you mock people. Is that from Barbara Bar, or was it on your mind here, too?”

“A little, before, but I’m really thinking about it more now. Like when me and Hannah would pick on Akko – what’s even the point of that? Are we gonna drive her out of Luna Nova? Not likely! Bully her into magicking better? Ha!” Barbara shook her head. “I get a little kick out of it, but it’s such a waste of time! And this is the best time to figure out something more satisfying, since I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t hurt if someone punched me in the face.”

“You’ll be glad for that, if you see Amanda,” Wangari said. “She wasn’t bluffing. But wait, you’re saying you should be helping the person you’re insulting?”

“It should help _someone._ It should do something.” Barbara’s expression stayed light and open as she continued. “I spend so much time insulting people, so I should get good at it. Right? I’m just an echo, otherwise. I just follow Hannah or Diana around like a puppy and bark at whoever they don’t like. If I don’t even do _that_ right, then it’s all pointless. Who needs me to do that? Who needs me to do anything? You know, sometimes I think I might as well not even be here. If I disappeared tomorrow, I guess Hannah would miss me, but…”

“Um,” Wangari said weakly. “I feel like I should have something more constructive to say, but are you hearing yourself right now?”

“I should probably see a counselor or something, now that you mention it,” Barbara agreed. “I never came out and said it before, but now I don’t have a filter. I don’t know if it’s being a ghost or a fool that’s doing it! Probably a ghost, since I was just talking about how fools have higher standards.” 

“Why would the ghost be—oh.” Wangari tilted her head, frowning. “I see. Barbara Bar doesn’t have to worry about anything anymore, is that it?”

“That’s right! The worst happened and I feel fine, so why worry about a few weird looks? And so, that’s what I think sometimes. At some point I decided that nobody needed me for anything. I guess I thought it wasn’t a problem because I didn’t feel sad about it, but now that you point it out, it _is_ a weird thing to think, isn’t it?”

Wangari nodded rapidly.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I just had a breakthrough, or whatever! Thanks, I guess.” Barbara leaned back in her seat and threaded her fingers behind her head. “And I mean that! Like I said, it’s a joke, but I really am thanking you. I don’t know if this will help Me Bar go home, but it’s still nice. I think… I think Me Prime needs something like Barbaracelli had – a project, right? Something to be passionate about?” She straightened suddenly and glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, speaking of, you think I should go say sorry to Lotte? Or would that just freak her out more? She really scurried off!”

“Hmm, I think you should let her come to you. What was your intention, when you sneaked up on us? Were you just trying to spook her?”

“Ugh, you’re probably right. And what _was_ I doing there? I guess when she didn’t react the way I expected, so I got curious and the only thing I could think of to do was keep pushing. Do I just have to start thinking about what I’m doing all the time? That can’t be right! I’m terrible at that.”

Wangari chuckled. “You said it, not me.”

“In a way, you’re a fool,” Barbara said, then added, “Professionally, I mean!” when Wangari’s smile grew. “Our mockery is supposed to reveal weakness, and we’re licensed to give it to anyone, no matter their station. Your questions are something like that, aren’t they?”

“If the weakness is there, sure,” Wangari agreed. “I could buy reporters as modern fools.”

They sat in silence for a time, looking at each other thoughtfully.

“Aww, crap. I should probably make sure Hannah’s okay, too.” Barbara drummed her fingers, irritated. “How is Me Prime going to deal with things actually _mattering?_ This is already exhausting!”

“You’ll get used to it,” Wangari said. “Wait, what are you-—?”

Barbara stood up on the desk, swung her arms loosely, and then dove through the floor with a deep, echoing _plunk_. Wangari bolted to her feet with a little scream, but instead of a mangled Barbara, all she saw past the desk was a soft ripple spreading through the carpet and fading away. “Sorry, whoever’s transcribing this,” she said, and shut off the recorder.

* * *

The sun was already dripping towards the horizon as Akko and Amanda returned, landing a good distance out for stealth purposes and trudging from the forest line. Cold wind howled through the branches, and the lightly pattering rain started to fall as sleet.

“Oh, hey, did you like the softening spell?” Amanda asked.

Akko snapped to attention. She was getting lost in her head a _lot,_ lately. “The what?”

“The spell I did, so you could chop the big guy? The beams that made him all crumbly?” Amanda puffed her chest out. “I made that spell myself! Adapted it from one of the ones they teach us in the Crafting and Kilns class. I figured Jasna wouldn’t always be there to break locks for me!”

“You made your own spell?” Akko asked, then broke into a grin. “That’s…! It’s a cool spell, yeah! I didn’t know you were that good! Are you working on any others?”

“Hey, whoa, you’re embarrassing me!” Amanda said, soaking it up. “But yeah, I’m… oh, look who’s here.”

Lotte was waiting for the adventurers, sitting on the school steps and idly thumbing through a volume of _Night Fall_. Akko almost didn’t recognize her at first. Partially, it was the change in body-type, though she could see what Lotte meant when she said the extra weight was “kinda cute.” The more important difference was how she sat straight with her shoulders squared, one leg extended down the steps. This girl wasn’t afraid to claim some space for herself.

“Welcome back,” she said, standing. Her eyes were wide but mellow, showing a cool reserve that didn’t look like any Lotte that Akko knew. “I’ll bet you want to avoid the nurse’s office, so I’m here to help.”

“Yeah?” Amanda asked. “How’d you know we’d be hurt?”

“Because it’s you,” Lotte said bluntly. Her expression flickered like she wanted to apologize, but then she continued in the same easygoing tone. “After what you told us about the tunnel, I wanted to be ready. I didn’t mean that as an insult, Amanda – I just knew you wouldn’t back down if things got dangerous.”

“It’s Darius, sometimes, now,” Akko said helpfully.

Amanda grabbed her arm. “Hey! Shh!”

“Oh?” Lotte asked, perking up. “Let me know when you want me to use it, okay?”

“Um…” Amanda released Akko, meeting Lotte’s bright eyes with a confused look. “Sure. It’s Amanda now, though.”

“Got it. Now, that’s the kind of thing you should let _her_ tell people, Akko,” Lotte added.

“Oh, okay,” Akko said. “Sorry.”

“Sure,” Amanda repeated, almost smiling.

“Now, this is going to feel a little funny,” Lotte warned, drawing her wand. “I’ll have to focus on a few spells, but we can still talk. Oh, and don’t interrupt me while I sing, please. _Taruto Tarumare!_ ” As long, delicate fairies wound out of the grass at Akko’s feet like garter snakes, Lotte started instructing them with a soft song, half hummed, half whispered.

“Catchy,” Amanda said, tapping her toes.

Lotte blushed.

The fairies wound up Akko’s body and started to sink into her, raising a sharp tingling sensation and alternating waves of hot and cold – as well as a lot of squirming and yelping. Akko did her best to call upon the knight’s stoicism, but it turned out that Dame Kagari wasn’t all that stoic either. She managed to plant her feet and get her protests down to whimpers once her aches and pains started fading, though.

Lotte took out a washcloth and conjured a dash of antiseptic with a swipe of her wand, then leaned up and started wiping the blood from Akko’s forehead. “Oh,” she murmured between notes. “Look at you, always charging into danger. You should be more careful.”

“You’re right, Luon,” Akko said tiredly under her breath. “You’re always right.”

Lotte stopped. “What’s that?”

“Never m—sorry. The other me knows you, and you have a different name there.”

“Oh…” Lotte looked troubled for a moment, then smiled and patted Akko’s cheek. “Well, I’m glad there’s at least one Lotte out there who has you well trained.”

“Ha, ha,” Akko grumbled. “Which one of you did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” Lotte admitted. “It’s never one or the other for me, and I can’t pick it apart. I’m – I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s–” Akko’s reply stopped in her chest. “Honestly, let’s not worry about it until we’re ourselves again. Everything is just gonna be messed up for a while, right?”

“Oi, do _I_ get any love?” Amanda asked. “I got blown up, too.”

Lotte whistled and pointed, and a couple of the fairies jumped from Akko into Amanda. She staggered back with a yell, then fell into a crouch, gritting her teeth. “Is it too much? I can call some back,” Lotte offered.

“Doing great,” Amanda grated. She clearly wasn’t, but it wouldn’t do to question her determination. “If Akko can take it, so can I!”

“I’m feeling better already!” Akko said, working her sword arm in a circle.

“Yeah, why don’t you do this healing thing more often?” Amanda asked, slowly rising. Her voice was coming back to normal, but still rasped a little. “Like I heard you guys shot Akko out of a cannon once; did you do it then?”

“You shouldn’t ask too much of the fairy spirits, or they’ll want favors back,” Lotte replied. “And I never like to impose. Also, Akko wouldn’t sit still for me after the cannon.”

“Oh, holy shit, I didn’t think you’d _actually_ been – where did you even find the cannon?”

“Sorry,” Akko said. “Don’t remember. Ask again after all this.”

“Oh, also!” Lotte cried, then dug through her satchel and held out the Shiny Rod.

Akko started to reach for it, but froze with a wide-eyed frown.

“What’s wrong?” Lotte asked.

“It’s dumb,” Akko replied, but didn’t come closer.

Lotte put her hands on her hips and said, not unkindly, “Out with it.”

Akko withdrew her hand and turned to the trees, relaxing. “I feel like if I use the Shiny Rod to solve this, then it’ll turn out to be one of the tests, right? Awakening one of the words? And I don’t want it to be. I want this to just be a crazy accident.”

“One of what tests?” Amanda asked.

Lotte absently flapped a hand and shushed her. “Why shouldn’t it be one of the Rod’s tests?”

“Because… they’ve been dangerous and scary, right? But that’s fine, because it’s always just been for me, and the people who come along with me!” Akko gave Lotte a look that suggested she was about to get sentimental, but then looked back to the forest. “But here we all are, ten of us, in this horrible situation, and we could all just _disappear_. And… and if that’s how it’s going to be, what are the _other_ tests going to be like? Are more and more people going to get hurt? What if I can’t do one?”

Lotte nodded slowly. “I think I understand.”

“I’m being dumb, I know.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t say that Akko,” Lotte insisted, and clapped her on the arm. Her expression was earnest, almost fierce. “I’ll hold on to the Rod, then. For now. But if it turns out you need it…”

“Yeah, I… I will.” Akko’s grave expression broke into a snicker. “You know, Me Bar had this same conversation with Luonnotar about a cursed sword a couple of years back.”

“How did that turn out?”

“You were able to rescue my soul from the fae realm, but I have to go back every year for a dance.”

“Just _what_ are you two mixed up in?” Amanda cried.

“Can it wait ‘til everything’s back to normal?” Akko asked, with a bit of a whine.

“Come on, this sounds like something that could—eh?”

Lotte hummed softly and the fairies hopped free of their patients to wiggle back into the grass. Only one remained perched on Akko’s shoulder, basking in the cold sunset. “Oh, right, you’ll have to sleep for an hour or two to complete the healing spell,” she said. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot about that part.”

“What?” Akko protested. “But I’m still all hopped up! What if I can’t?”

“Don’t worry, it knocks you out. You have about…” Lotte glanced to the fairy spirit on Akko’s shoulder questioningly, then her eyes widened. She slapped a hand into the small of Akko’s back. “Get to bed, hurry!”

* * *

_Memory – The World of D.I.A.N.A._

Diana was built for this. 

The Super Stanship _Nova_ plunged through a torrent of green and white and gold, and Diana felt the fury of its engines, the boiling heat of its reactor, and the currents of hyperspace raking across its hull as though it were her own body. In a way, it was. Her mind churned relentlessly, confidently, through the thousands of calculations per second that kept those currents from ripping them apart. Her hands were steady on her console, but she was only gripping it to reassure her crewmates; her command of the ship was direct, and absolute. With a feeling of mingled relief, joy, and sorrow, she pinpointed their landing zone and gave the _Nova_ her last orders to drop into normal space.

And then hyperspace _melted._ It seeped through the maze of delicate crystal wafers in her head and down to her fingers and toes like liquid metal, filling her with heat and light. The bridge faded away and Diana dissolved into the blazing white beyond, even as the _Nova_ landed safely in normal space. She couldn’t tell if the sensation was painful or pleasant, or something beyond either. Her mind was too completely full to even form an opinion.

“…happened again,” Acco was saying, regretfully. “I’d hoped that first time was a fluke, but… we can’t keep using her like this.”

Diana blinked slowly. Her cheek was resting in the padded palm of Acco’s hand – the mission commander had lunged to catch her before her head hit the deck. Of course. She hadn’t been floating away on a tide of extradimensional light; in the real world, she’d convulsed and fallen from her station. Her defect had struck again. The first thing to emerge from the cloud of sparkles in her brain was a harsh, prickly feeling, resting on her brow and cheeks like a hot mask. Most likely embarrassment.

Diana could’ve hoped that the first attack was just stress or a rare hyperspatial power spike, but this proved that the problem was within her. She knew from experience that she shouldn’t try to move, but still made a feeble effort to school her limbs into a more dignified position. _Relax,_ she commanded herself. _Collect yourself._ She kept struggling.

“I agree, Acco,” the Scientific Advisor/Research Administrator said. Diana could sense Sa/ra now, a gangly figure with long red hair towering awkwardly over them, eyes hidden by a dark scan visor. “She’s been seeing us through safely, at least, but she’s going to severely damage herself at this rate. I recommend ordering her to the repair bay immediately, or sending for a new DIANA unit.”

“Your suggestion is logged,” Acco said flatly. “Don’t you have a job to be doing right now?”

Sa/ra loomed for a moment longer, then her slouch grew deeper. “I hope everything works out,” she said, and turned away. “Hang in there, Diana.”

Acco was finally able to help Diana up and lead her from the darkened bridge. Fitted for androids, the stanship was cold and dimly lit, but the crew had slowly added splashes of color and light over their years of exploration, mostly panoramic photos of the landscapes they’d discovered and portraits of the animals they’d befriended. The two started their long, slow walk to Diana’s quarters, and she tried not to be annoyed at how carefully her companion was watching her.

“Jeez, that Sa/ra,” Acco grumbled, once they were through the door. “She leans into me, then she goes and makes me feel bad for snapping back.”

“She’s correct, after all,” Diana said.

Acco didn’t have a reply to that.

“It was a good jump, though,” she said after a time. “Right on target.”

More heat, this time in Diana’s chest, along with tension in her limbs. It was as though her body wanted to strike out or start running. _Anger,_ she determined, which didn’t make sense at first, but then she supposed that Acco’s comment could be taken as patronizing. _I know, intellectually, that she didn’t mean it that way. Why can’t I choose to take her intended meaning?_

“Sorry,” Acco added.

Diana drew a deep breath of the _Nova’s_ cold air and let if fill her, drawing the heat from her depths, then exhaled a long plume of steam. Manage the physical manifestation, and it would help you manage the emotion. She’d learned that recently, too. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s good to hear that I’m still performing adequately.”

Acco nodded with a frown. She looked like she wanted to say more, but, frustratingly, held off. That meant that Diana had to try and figure out what was on her mind. _Inconsiderate._

“You’re wondering why I haven’t submitted to having my navigation hardware repaired.” Diana guessed, watching her sideways. “I am normally more… conscientious about such matters, and it leaves you uncertain of how to approach me.”

Acco cast her a surprised glance. “You always cut right to the chase.”

“In the rare moments that I understand you, I have to act quickly.” Diana smiled slightly, but it didn’t last. “As for my hesitance, I can only apologize. I… can’t quite make sense of it myself.” They stopped at the door of Diana’s quarters. “You can come in, if you’d like to continue this discussion.”

Someone who’d just met Diana might expect her quarters to be empty and sterile, but the walls were lined with pots and terrariums full of vivid plants from many planets. The first star she’d named was framed above her charging bed, a builtday present from Acco1. She even had a pet, relaxing in his palatial terrarium right alongside the charging bed: a great white snake from Dubhe 4 named Peregrine Andrew Morny. Most of her power ration went to keeping her quarters at his preferred temperature and synthesizing protein blobs for him to eat. At Acco’s suggestion, she’d also spent one of her leave tokens on a beanbag snake in his likeness, “so you can take him on missions in spirit!” The idea had seemed silly, but now she never failed to clip Perry’s avatar to her belt before leaving the ship.

“I have to make the call, while we’re here in port,” Acco said, sitting on the ledge under the viewport between two potted stands of rushes. It wasn’t technically a seat, but Diana had long since gotten used to her perching in weird places. “And… I’m sorry, but I have to ground you. I can’t let you take us on another jump until you get that fault fixed.”

Diana deliberately set Perry across her shoulders and let him slowly wind around her and settle. “Very well,” she said evenly, sitting on the edge of her bed. “At this point, that’s the only course open to you.”

“I really am sorry, though. I know how you love navigating.”

Diana blinked and Perry tightened around her, as though reading her surprise before she did. “You do?”

“Well… yeah. It’s the only time you really look happy. You get this big goofy smile; it’s great.”

“A-ah.” Diana had never noticed what her face was doing. “I see.”

“Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

 _Somehow, that’s even worse._ Diana shook her head. “As our only navigator, I really have no excuse for not submitting myself for repairs. Until I resolve this… situation, I’m of no use to the expedition.”

“Maybe not an excuse,” Acco said. “But you always have a reason.”

“That’s kind of you to say, but –”

“It’s not a matter of being kind,” Acco interrupted. “I mean – you’re not just being randomly stupid. Nobody ever is; that’s not how these things work. There’s always a reason, even if it’s a bad one. And if you wanna talk about your duty, well, taking care of yourself is part of it, too. You can’t write yourself off like that!”

Diana gazed at her, slowly stroking Perry’s gleaming coil across her chest. “You’ve been thinking about this.”

“Of course I have.” Acco turned away, hiding her face with a fall of synthetic brown hair. “I mean, you’re not just our navigator. You’re a friend. We’re all worried about you, even Sa/ra.”

Diana considered this. The idea of having friends was still disorienting. And much as she liked the commander, perhaps she’d been underestimating her. “I suspect…” she said slowly. “That this has to do with the Doctor’s offer.”

“The emotion thing?” Acco asked. “That’s separate, though, right? Different systems.”

“It is. However, as a hyperspace navigator, my brain is so delicate and precisely tuned that even routine repairs risk damage,” Diana explained. “It’s likely that if I don’t have my emotions adjusted in the same procedure, the Doctor will not be willing to let me undergo another one later. When I submit myself to repair the fault in my navigation system, I will have to decide whether to allow her to alter my personality – immediately.”

Acco nodded slowly. “So you’ve been thinking about it?”

“Yes. When I can.” Diana worked her fingers under Perry and shifted him to a more comfortable position. He was _really_ squeezing. She wondered if he was trying to comfort her. Even after months of observation, the mind of a Dubhian snake was still mysterious. “At times, I experience an unexpected pressure that keeps me from considering it too closely. It’s possible that…”

Ever since she was activated, Diana had known she was different from her fellow DIANA units. She’d quickly developed a layer of cool armor to ward off painful and confusing interactions, but still devoted the same focus and care to relating to her fellow androids that she did to navigating. It was… inefficient, perhaps. But it was her. Surging ahead of her fellows in some ways, and slowly catching up in others – was this state of affairs even a problem, that she should be reprogrammed to ‘solve’ it?

When she entered the repair bay, she would have to make that choice for all time.

“Ah, I see,” Diana finally said thoughtfully, stroking Perry’s scales. “That’s what it’s been all this time. I’m afraid.”

Acco came over to sit next to her and said nothing. _Kind of her._ Their duties would pull them apart before long, but for now, they could rest together.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

_Dr. Evans called it alexithymia – difficulty in recognizing and responding to your own emotions. It’s a trait many humans have. Some develop it from trauma, but it’s simply a part of others._ Diana sat up slowly, blinking in the workshop’s dim light. She felt like she’d had a full night’s sleep. Also, strangely, she felt fully like Diana Prime – the android was a watchful presence around the edges of her mind, drinking the experience in. _For me, it was a little of both. Journaling helps, a bit, and relaxation exercises, but I also had to learn to understand how my heart works. And to accept it._

She rested a hand on her chest and deliberately relaxed, taking in the soft currents and warm pulse of an alien body. Diana loved to teach, and she loved to learn, and as she gently delivered her lecture to herself, she began to feel a weight lifting from her head and shoulders. _I still don’t know what the android should do, but the witch found a way for herself, with help. I hope…_

“DIANA?” a stanbot at her side blared, and the moment broke.

“H-hello,” she replied, darting her gaze between the stanbot on her bedside table and Constanze, who had just padded into the room, carefully adjusting a bulky headset. It took her a moment to work out that she should look at Conz while listening for the robot she was speaking through. “Please – how long was I out?”

“AN HOUR,” the stanbot reported. “MS. CONSTANZE APOLOGIZES – THE POWER CONVERTER WAS MORE DIFFICULT TO INTEGRATE THAN SHE EXPECTED.”

“No, this is still… splendid, amazing work,” Diana said, touching the converter pinned to her chest. It looked like a shallow metal blossom with a soft green glow emerging from between the petals. “There’s nothing like my body in all the world, and yet…” She saw Constanze getting embarrassed and cut herself off.

“IT CAPTURES POWER FROM THE SORCERER’S STONE. IT CHARGES YOU VERY SLOWLY, SO BE SPARING IN YOUR MOVEMENTS.” The stanbot made an odd hiccup sound as Constanze tapped her chin, reconsidering her next words. “AND THOUGHTS. YOUR PROCESSOR USES MUCH MORE POWER THAN YOUR MUSCLES.”

“You’re telling me not to think too much?”

“MAKE LIKE AKKO.”

Diana blinked. She’d felt two tiny, soft flashes at that, both hard to identify. She might have been amused and irritated? “I see.”

Constanze held out a glass of water. “MS. CONSTANZE ALSO FOUND OUT THAT YOU ARE PARTIALLY ORGANIC. YOU WILL NEED TO STAY HYDRATED.”

“Really?” Diana took a long sip of water, surprised to feel it coursing coldly down a throat into a stomach. It was _delicious._ Suddenly she realized that she’d been desperately needing it for hours. She tossed half of the glass back and sighed heavily. “Thank you. Oh, heavens, thank you.” She turned back to Conz and deliberately smiled. She was better at it this time.

Constanze frowned and gestured to the stanbot.

“MS. CONSTANZE CAN SEE YOU FORCING YOUR SMILE,” the stanbot said. It cocked its head as Constanze tapped her headset, then continued. “IF IT IS SAFE, DO NOT FORCE YOURSELF TO ACT LIKE YOU THINK PEOPLE WANT YOU TO. IT WILL NOT SATISFY THEM.”

“I beg your pardon?” Diana asked, letting the smile drop.

“IF YOU ARE DIFFERENT, NOBODY SEES THE EFFORT OF ACTING LIKE THEM. THEY WILL THINK THAT IT IS YOUR NORMAL, AND ALWAYS DEMAND MORE. THEY WILL REFUSE TO LEARN ABOUT YOU, AND HOLD YOU TO THE PERFORMANCE THAT YOU HAVE TO GIVE.”

“I… think I may understand,” Diana said. “Though our experiences on this front have no doubt been very different.”

Constanze scowled thoughtfully, then shrugged and blew a quick raspberry. The stanbot reported, “MS. CONSTANZE HAS NEVER TRIED TO EXPLAIN IN WORDS. ANYWAY, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PERFORM FOR HER.”

“Thank you,” Diana said. “For that, and for…” she gestured to the power converter.

Constanze gave her a stern thumbs-up, then beckoned her along into the next room. Stanbots scurried all around them, preparing the space and casting worklights down on a table at its center. It held a long wooden staff with a coil of what looked like cobalt carved in a spiral along its length, connected by a set of long cables to a small device Diana didn’t recognize. _Like one of those modern phones, but with a wristband?_

The stanbots continued their work and Constanze strode into their midst, pointing imperiously. After a moment, though, she gingerly touched her temple and winced.

“Does using that hurt?” Diana asked.

Constanze grimaced and moved her head in an odd half-nod, half-shake that suggested that it did hurt quite a bit, but she was trying to minimize it.

“Are you, perhaps, performing?”

With a scoff, Constanze took the headset off and lightly punched Diana’s arm. Next, she moved to the head of the worktable, wrote on a whiteboard, and held it up. _Use this to find Jasna._

“Cedar…” Diana said, resting her hand on the staff. “What is it?”

_Detector. The rod collects. The watch displays. Should lead to Jasna within 100 yards._

Diana nodded. She had many questions, but there was an uneasy tension about her host, and she didn’t know how to frame them. “That sounds simple enough. Should we let the others know you’ve found a way to locate her?”

_Not until you’ve found her. Not 100% certain._

“Wise.”

Constanze pointed into the air and rushed off, then returned with Diana’s wand, offering it with both hands. Diana accepted it hesitantly and held it at arm’s length.

After a few moments of watching her carefully, Constanze wrote on the whiteboard again. _Are you able to use magic in that body?_

“I’m afraid…” Diana said, paused for an uncomfortable beat, and then continued. “…I won’t be able to test that just now. It’ll have to remain an open question.”

Constanze spread her hands in a way that might have been frustration, or an invitation to explain.

Diana chose the latter interpretation and leaned towards her android side to stay dispassionate. “Years ago, my family suffered a tragedy, and I temporarily lost the ability to use magic as a result.” She reversed her grip on the wand and held it up to the light, inspecting it. “I can’t stand the thought of losing my magic again. I can discuss the possibility calmly, but if I were to actually try to use magic and fail, I don’t know what I would do.”

Conz nodded gravely. A stanbot paused in its duties to pat Diana’s ankle.

“I must apologize. Will your device require me to cast any spells?”

After a quick check of her blueprints, Constanze shook her head.

“What does it detect?”

Constanze looked at her blankly – she didn’t even need the sign. _Didn’t I already tell you?_

“I mean, what quality of Jasminka is it that your machine detects?” Diana held the rod up in both hands, looking it over with narrowed eyes. “Cedar and cobalt together only have a few uses in magical theory. This almost looks like a classical array used for divining the locations of dem—"

Constanze jumped up and slapped her across the face.

Diana fumbled the rod and caught it with a sharp gasp _._ Conz’s expression was closed off; Diana could learn nothing from it. “Never mind, then. It will be difficult to avoid the teachers, I will do my best. If I find Jasminka, what should I say?”

Constanze looked at her oddly and Diana had an off-balance moment. It _was_ an unusual question from her, wasn’t it? More like the humble navigator, not the Pride of Luna Nova. 

“She’s your friend,” Diana explained. “I’m not certain of how to approach her.”

Constanze gripped her chin, then extended her arm in a firm chop forward.

“Be straightforward,” Diana translated. “That should be simple. I will hope to return with her, but I’ll be able to report her status to everyone else, at the very least.”

Constanze stood on her toes and slipped a small hairclip behind Diana’s ear. _Signal booster,_ she wrote on her whiteboard. _You should be able to reach the workshop from five kilometers out. Hope she’s closer._ She hesitated over what to write next, then instead awkwardly reached out and patted Diana’s arm.

With a brisk nod, Diana turned on her heel and started away. Revelations and memories sloshed through her head and uncertainty hummed in her chest, ebbing and growing opposite the trickle of power that kept her moving. Before her was an unknown, possibly dangerous Jasminka, along with an almost certainly demonic being that Constanze refused to brief her on. Nobody in their right mind would accept this mission. 

It was time for Diana to prove, once again, that she was worthy of the faith invested in her.

* * *


	6. Unwelcome Aid

_Memory – The World of Hannah England, P.I._

“I think that this is… ill-advised,” Diana said diplomatically. “But I trust you.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said. “Walking into _that_ lion’s den isn’t my first choice, either, but it’s my best bet to close this thing out quickly. We have our woman, so there’s just this one loose end left!”

They had a table at _The Yellow Rose_ , a corner bistro on the rich side of town, screened from the bright, harsh overcast sky by a colorful awning. Hannah would never have been able to afford the place, but Diana had ordered them appetizers without a thought, and started eating like a horse as soon as they arrived. Everything seemed to be crispy-fried or sodden with grease; were Diana’s tastes really so low-class, or had she ordered what she’d imagined her companion would like? If only Hannah were less nervous, she could’ve enjoyed the experience more. _Does this place have booze?_

Just down the street stood the sinister Casa Cavendish. It was a perfectly ordinary brownstone, one of the House of Cavendish’s many holdings, but it knowing who lived there gave it the ambiance of a witch’s hut. Daryl Cavendish, Diana’s aunt, was a half-legitimate figure in the city’s politics, legendarily corrupt and frighteningly effective. Nobody could imagine what Blytonbury might have been without her, or the country beyond.

“You’ll be searched for weapons,” Diana reminded her.

Without hesitation, Hannah reached into her trench coat and set her gun on the table.

Diana stared at it. “What on Earth did you find?”

“It’s probably nothing. But it could mean you have a bigger problem than we thought,” Hannah said. “Listen, I’ll explain everything when I’m back. I’m already running late. Thanks for the food.”

“You’ve barely touched it!” Diana said, but then her expression grew soft and she touched Hannah’s arm. “Be careful in there. I don’t… just… be careful.”

Hannah clasped her hand lightly. “I do this kind of thing all the time. I’ll keep an eye out. See you soon, okay?”

As she set out, Hannah grappled with a warm feeling in her chest. It was almost like she and Ms. Cavendish were friends. Over the course of her investigation, she’d felt tiny glimmers like the two of them might even be building something bigger, which was ridiculous. More than ridiculous, it was… wrong. She shouldn’t be enjoying it. But then, every little bit of pleasure had felt that way, ever since Barbara…

“Welcome,” the doorman said brightly. “You must be Hannah England, here for Mistress Cavendish’s 2pm appointment?”

“That’s me,” Hannah said, gamely spreading her arms to be searched, but he just waved her through. Another footman intercepted her in a ludicrously lavish foyer and invited her deeper. Just as she moved to follow, she felt a tingle on the back of her neck and glanced up. A young woman with short blonde hair was sitting on the stairs above her, looking down with wide, cold blue eyes and an expression that _might_ have been a smile. 

“Ma’am,” Hannah said coolly, and continued on.

The footman led her to a second-floor greenhouse, overlooking the private lake behind the row of brownstones. As soon as she stepped in, sweltering humidity slammed in around her and drove the air from her lungs. Her next breath was heavy with the pink and blue orchids nodding all around her.

Daryl was reclining in a wicker chair in the center of the room, behind a small table stocked with minor comforts and some bookkeeping. Her light blue summer gown was perfect for the heat, and a wide-brimmed hat protected her from the water pattering from the ceiling. She looked eerily like Diana, but she used the same features to very different effect – the sharp lines of her face and the vivid blue of her eyes drove like a blade, instead of standing like a mountain. Even with a relaxed expression, her gaze skewered Hannah.

“I do hope you’re not too uncomfortable,” Daryl said, obviously unbothered. “My doctor recommends I stay in a balmy climate to aid my circulation.”

“Nice change of pace,” Hannah replied half-heartedly. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Cavendish.”

“Likewise, charmed. I take it you’re here investigating my niece’s little problem.” As she spoke, Daryl slowly drew her knife through the peach and pulled out a wedge. “I’m amazed that nobody’s taken the opportunity sooner. She’s sweet and hard-working, but our Diana isn’t the brightest. Definitely not cut out for the kind of work we do.”

Hannah bristled inwardly, but kept her face carefully neutral.

“Trust is important in any business, even ours, but there are limits. It’s as if she’s running her operation in another galaxy, but her mistakes and weak points are glaring us in the face at all hours. I’ll confess to you that I’ve considered giving her a spot of blackmail or sabotage myself, just to teach her a lesson. It seems that wasn’t necessary, however…”

“You don’t suppose your daughters would try anything?” Hannah suggested, then instantly regretted it. She only knew Maril and Merril by their sterling reputations (and that creepy stare from whichever of them it was), but she had no idea how Daryl would respond to the suggestion.

“Oh, I’m not saying that,” Daryl said carelessly. “Question them if you’d like. I wouldn’t put the attempt past them, but I doubt that there’d be any mystery if either of them was the culprit. Diana would never have had to hire you in the first place. Would you like a cigarette? I’m not allowed to smoke them anymore, but I enjoy the smell.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said, surprised, and took one from a sealed box on the table. “So, ah, it sounds like you don’t think much of them. Your daughters, I mean.”

“I think the world of my daughters, but I’m honest about their talents. Maril has a certain low cunning that helps her bully her way through life. Merril is as dumb as a post, but she’s hungry, and that will take you far when you’re as rich as we are. My girls are hardly mastermind material, but they’ll both be right at home in the roles I have planned for them; neither has been burdened with any more moral sense than that of a common garter snake, nor have I. No Cavendish ever has.”

Hannah smirked. “Not even your sweet, hard-working niece?”

“Diana is her mother’s daughter. She tells all the lies that Bernadette used to, and by now she’s even fooled herself. You’ll want to watch out for that one. She may not be a snake like the rest of us, but she is, at the very least, a weasel.”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Hannah said. She could see Daryl watching her for a reaction. _Why does she care? Something’s on her mind._ “I’m not here to question you as a suspect – I’ve already found the blackmailer, and some of their contacts. I’m just about to close out the case, in fact, but something still isn’t quite right. A little pissant like them has no business going after the head of a noble house, but they do have connections to a broader network – in particular, someone my agency was already investigating. I’m just trying to make sure there isn’t something bigger going on.”

“How exciting,” Daryl said drily. “You think the House of Cavendish is, perhaps, embroiled in a gang war that we somehow haven’t noticed?”

“It could be the start of one, maybe, or another move in one ongoing, and we can find out who to blame. Maybe they were using the blackmailer as a catspaw. I don’t expect to get much out of them, but…”

“Your efforts to avoid naming our culprit are getting tiresome. I know that you don’t want to throw a petty blackmailer to the scary kingpin, but you can just go ahead and say Chloé Leblanc. I warned Diana against working with her, but now here we are.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s her.” Hannah stared. “How did—?”

“Good. I’m relieved that you at least managed to get the right one.” Daryl carefully cut out another wedge. “Hold your applause, detective. For my next trick, I’m going to guess how it is you decided that she’s part of a larger conspiracy. Are you ready?”

“Now, hold on…”

“You found out that Leblanc was in contact with the Irish enforcer ‘Handsome ‘Manda’ O’Neil, perhaps from their meetings at Little Frank’s Casino. Why anybody uses that hole for secret meetings, I’ll never guess.”

Struggling to keep her balance, Hannah said the first thing that came to mind. “The hors d'oeuvres are great. And Frank’s kinda cute, until you actually have a conversation with him.”

“Very droll. And now you’re here because O’Neil was the only contact of Leblanc’s that you couldn’t account for in your investigation, and you wanted to find out if I might know what the two of them were up to, without revealing how much you knew about our situation?”

“Well, I’m very impressed,” Hannah said, affecting a casual tone. Her heart was pounding and she wanted to mop at her forehead, but that felt like revealing a fatal weakness. “But why are you showing off for little old me?”

“Now that you mention it, this may just be a waste of our time. As detectives go, you’re decidedly middle-of-the-road. Certainly not worth the exorbitant rate my niece is paying you. If you think for just a moment, you might start to realize that your misgivings don’t have anything to do with – _sit._ ”

Hannah had been shifting to rise, but the crack of command knocked her back into her wicker chair.

“Try to keep your sense of humor, Detective. If I can be honest about my darling children, then I can show a mediocre hawkshaw like you the same courtesy! If you’ll just keep your clever mouth shut a little while longer, you’ll leave this meeting much wiser.” She waited expectantly, then nodded. “Good.”

Hannah felt like she was falling sideways. She’d dealt with mob bosses and police captains and crooked politicians, but she’d never faced something quite like this. Daryl wasn’t dangerous because she could have Hannah swatted like a fly – the real danger was in those hooded looks. She _knew_ something. _Barbara would have kept me from coming here. I would have listened to her._

“As I was saying, your misgivings don’t have anything to do with young Chloé. Going after my niece was unutterably foolish of her, but that’s all there is to it. Simple greed and stupidity. You’re not here to find out if she’s a part of some grand conspiracy. You’re here because you still don’t understand your part in this drama, and the sudden connection to your late partner’s last case has you suspicious. It’s strange that Diana descended on you out of the blue, with such a windfall, isn’t it? You _want_ there to be more.”

“And… and is there?” Hannah asked.

“There is, but you won’t like it. Some peach?”

Hannah held up a hand, eyes intense.

“You’ve heard that my niece’s operation serves the upper crust, those oh-so-noble philanthropists who fund her hospitals and settlement houses. It’s all very genteel and orderly – there’s little need for violence, and she has a tidy web of bribes and lies to keep everyone in line. It’s practically bloodless! This is as much out of pragmatism as morality, of course, but she still must feel terrible on the rare occasions that it fails, the poor thing.”

Hannah didn’t like where this was going. “What happens when it fails?”

“From time to time Diana’s employees or associates feel the need to be more… _proactive_ in protecting their secrets. I can hardly blame them; Diana should know that it’s impossible to keep your hands clean in this trade. Now, your partner, Detective Parker. She was investigating O’Neil when she passed, wasn’t she? Learning that Leblanc and O’Neil were connected is what has you chasing down leads, now – not only to solve my niece’s case, but to find out why poor Ms. Parker died. Am I right?”

“Th-that’s right. We thought O’Neil was just a small-timer, but then the night before she died, Barbara found evidence that she was involved in a major… drug ring…”

“Parker must have been the brains of your operation. I’m sure by now you’ve finally guessed _which_ drug ring she uncovered. Diana blacklisted O’Neil from the organization not so long ago, though I can’t imagine why. It’s almost as though she did something to offend my niece’s delicate sensibilities…” Daryl’s sympathetic look wasn’t very convincing. “If it’s any consolation, O’Neil isn’t a cruel woman. It was probably quick.”

 _It was quick, alright._ Hannah felt like her brain was half-sunk in cold, sucking mud, but kept her poker face. “You’re making quite an accusation, Ms. Cavendish.”

“As I said, I know more about Diana’s organization than she does – and she knows it. If she just wanted to tie up her blackmail troubles, all it would have taken is a five-minute phone call to me. She would really need another reason to descend from on high and rescue your little establishment, don’t you think?”

Hannah knew that Diana would have been too proud to make that call, but dumping a ludicrous amount of money on some nobody gumshoe wasn’t the only alternative. _Why would she have to bother with me? She has in-house investigators, even! Is that what all of this is? Am I just another one of her charity cases?_

“We’re both busy women,” Daryl said with a cold smile. “I should let you get back to your case. Unless you have more questions?”

“Not for you.” Hannah stubbed out her cigarette and stalked from the hothouse, chased by a mocking chuckle.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Twilight was already fading behind the treetops, and the rain grew heavier and colder. Hannah stood in Blue Team’s room resting a forearm on the window, watching sleet lash the outside and roll down in sluggish sheets. Barbara floated by her side, perched on a seat of thin air with her legs demurely crossed. The room dimmed, but neither moved for the lights.

“Sorry, that went on longer than I intended,” Hannah said distantly. “Just kind of… came out in a rush. Glad I didn’t remember it when I was talking with Wangari. But anyway, I guess that explains why I’ve been so pissy with Diana.”

“Yes, I think I understand now,” Barbara replied. “She’s two Dianas in one, and, like a clever person, you’re blaming her for something that _yet a third_ Diana did. You really _are_ a detective!”

“God, I _know,_ ” Hannah growled. She shook her box of candy cigarettes and pulled one out. “But it was the same for all of us, right? I look at her and see the Diana that Hannah Bar knows… and she _killed my Barbara._ Hell, if we all end up turning into our other selves, she’ll have killed you, too!”

“Huh,” Barbara said, amused. “Now that you mention it…”

Hannah let out a harsh breath and bit the end off of her cigarette.

“Are you enjoying those?”

“You want one? They’re awful. I just need something to do with my hands.”

“Looks like they’re ruining your mood; I’ll pass. Is Hannah Bar a smoker?”

“I think so. It’s pretty common over there.”

“She’d better stop, then, or she’ll end up like me!”

Hannah cringed. “Barb… you… could you maybe knock it off with the ‘ho ho I’m dead’ jokes? At least with me? Please?”

“Oh, jeez,” Barbara said. She floated sideways and hugged Hannah without changing altitude, clasping her head to her belly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think about how… I’ll stop.”

Hannah muttered indistinctly and wrapped her arms around Barbara’s legs. 

“What’ve you even been doing with yourself, since the accident?” Barbara asked, stroking Hannah’s hair. “I saw you scowling around here and there, looking really busy, but nobody gave you a job for the ritual.”

Hannah turned her head to the side and said, as though she were surprised herself, “I’ve been interviewing goblins.”

Barbara paused in her petting. “Interviewing who, now?”

“When I was getting the lens folder for Diana, I got to thinking,” Hannah said. She braced for a cutting comment, but Barbara just drifted down to stand at her side, keeping an arm around her. “And now I’m 90% sure the new professor is doing something shady up in her lab. Something she couldn’t justify, and so she had to put on this whole big show with the riot to get those SSS collectors put up all over.”

“But she saved us! I don’t remember a lot of that day – it mostly got pasted over by a _super disappointing_ circus performance Me Bar did up in Kenley – but I do remember there was a minotaur who was about to stomp us flat when she stopped the riot!”

Hannah nodded urgently. “That’s what I thought, but, listen: none of the fairies remember what happened.”

“What?”

“At least, none I’ve talked to. They remember the strike, they remember the tension, some of ‘em were really mad… but everything after that little fire fairy got doused? _Pff,_ gone. They said it was like they were bespelled, but of course they were blocking all of us witches from using magic, so who could have done it?” Hannah rested her chin in her hand. “There was a real movement, but it’s like someone took the wheel from them right at the end. Made ‘em run wild. And then Meridies came, and they just _stopped,_ and everything was instantly better. See where I’m going with this?”

“Sure, but the fairies seem a lot happier now that they’re getting more magic,” Barbara pointed out. “And maybe she has a good reason to want the lab?”

Hannah’s lip curled. “We were gonna get beaten to jelly, and that minotaur didn’t even want to do it! I’ve had enough of people messing around like that for ‘good reasons.’ Her reasons wouldn’t make us any less dead if she screwed up.”

“Oh, yeah, like me.” Barbara barked out an awkward laugh. “That wasn’t a ghost joke, I swear. I meant your Barbara, your detective partner. I just caught the link there. I… I shouldn’t be laughing.” She leaned sideways and uncertainly searched Hannah’s grim face. “You’re really cute when you brood, but maybe you should take a break?”

Hannah slumped sideways into her chest.

“And, uh, sorry for the lack of heartbeat,” Barbara added.

“I don’t have any real evidence,” Hannah said to the wall. “It’s all circumstantial. I’ve got some ideas to investigate Meridies, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do them as just regular Hannah. But if she’s really doing something bad…”

“I’m serious, just take a moment and breathe. Just rest a moment.”

Hannah gave in and closed her eyes.

“I should find something to do,” Barbara mused, and resumed stroking Hannah’s hair. “I got used to thinking Diana would take care of everything, but now she’s conked out. I was just talking to Wangari about this – you and me, we sit in the background too much. Maybe you have the right idea, after all…”

A towering silhouette with glowing, blood-red eyes stepped out of nowhere three feet from them. It was instantly engulfed in flame, and then a lightning bolt blew it back into the shadows, where it tumbled end over end into the darkness far beyond the wall. After a few seconds, Hannah and Barbara finally stopped screaming and lowered their wands. The figure was gone, but the room was cold and dark around them.

“Ow,” Sucy said.

“Oh, Ghoulsy, is that you?” Barbara called. With a visible effort, she let go of Hannah’s hand and stepped forward. Behind her, Hannah held her wand at the ready and planted her feet in a firing stance.

“If I say ‘yes,’ will I get blasted again?”

“If-if you’ve got something to say,” Hannah said, searching the room’s shadows nervously. “Let’s hear it.”

“Diana had me watching the ritual site, remember?” Sucy said, stepping out of the darkness at her side. Even Barbara jumped. “I saw something creepy there, and I didn’t know who to tell. Diana’s off on some weird quest and I can’t find her because I haven’t figured out this blood-o-vision thing. Akko and Amanda are asleep, Wangari’s interviewing Constanze, and Jasminka’s still missing, so it’s you.”

“What about Lotte?” Barbara asked, recovering her balance.

“What _about_ her?” Sucy replied.

“Ah, lover’s quarrel?” Barbara met bared fangs with a yawn. “Well, it’s none of my business.”

Sucy simmered back down into annoyance. “Anyway, a few minutes ago, some little cubes flew around Akko’s circle and then went further up in the tower. I tried to follow, but it turns out I can’t get too close to the Sorcerer’s Stone or I burst into flame. Must be a vampire thing.”

“Hell,” Hannah said.

Sucy grinned. “If it hurt less, I’d want to do some tests.”

“I… I can’t think of anything funny to say,” Barbara admitted. “That sounds horrible.”

“Eh, I heal right back up,” Sucy said with a shrug. “Like you saw.”

Hannah and Barbara looked at each other guiltily.

“Also, it’s not like you normally have anything funny to say.”

Barbara giggled. “Asshole.”

“Do you think the cubes knew I was following them?” Sucy mused. “Or do you think they came from up there? That’s where the new professor’s lab is, right?”

“That’s right!” Hannah said triumphantly, ignoring Barbara’s sigh. “I knew Meridies was trouble! I doubt she had anything to do with what happened to us, but if she finds out about it… maybe we’d better watch out, at least.”

“You know, I hate to bring this up,” Barbara said. “But… I think I saw a little cube right before the ritual. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, and Diana was in a real hurry, so I didn’t push it.”

“Figures,” Hannah grumbled.

“Honestly, lay off of her,” Barbara said. Her tone was light, but genuine frustration shone through.

“She turned you into a ghost! How can you defend…?”

“You can be mad about _your_ deal, but don’t swear bloody vengeance for me while I’m right here! Wait until I’m _actually_ dead, or traumatized or whatever, before you go after our friend, will you? What makes you think I even want you to, anyway?”

Hannah sputtered at the unfairness of it all.

Sucy smirked. “Lover’s quarrel?”

“You got it,” Barbara said. “Good teasing judo, though. B plus! I’d already forgotten I said that.”

Hannah slapped her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re rating our zingers.”

“You two started it. Honestly!”

“I guess you’re an expert on insults,” Sucy observed. “Or at least on being a dick.” 

“Now, now, you have some talent there, too. Remember the itching potion you put in our laundry?” Barbara spread a magnanimous hand. “Not very witty, sure, but impressively cruel, and a big investment for a prank. You might not be up to the standards of a fool, but if you put your mind to it, you could make a go as a harlequin-themed serial killer.”

“Why do you get to be a clown _and_ a ghost, anyway?” Sucy asked. “All the rest of us are one thing, it seems like.”

“Please, I’m a fool. It’s an important distinction.” Barbara drifted sideways, audibly dragging her shoes across the floorboards, and snaked her arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “And besides, if Hannah gets to be a detective and a fool, it’s only fair that I get to be a ghost and a fool.”

“Okay, that one was good,” Hannah said, unsmiling. “That was actually funny.”

Sucy waggled her hand.

“So then we just have to warn the others that Professor Meridies might be watching us,” Hannah said, straightening. She snapped her radio out one-handed. “You might have to go poke Akko and Amanda if they’re sleeping, but everyone should still have their—eh?" All she got from the radio was a blast of static. She fluttered her thumb on the switch, unleashing a staccato series of cracks.

“Do you guys know anything about radios?” Barbara asked. “It’s not supposed to do that, is it? Is it broken?” She retreated a step from Hannah and Sucy’s flat looks. “Hey, one of me’s used a crystal ball for all of that, and the other’s from a world without those things! At least give me a proper burn, if I’m being a dummy!”

“Your priorities are way out of whack,” Sucy observed.

“D minus,” Barbara replied sadly.

“And there you go,” Sucy said. “I can get upstairs faster – I’ll go tell Akko and Amanda, then see if Constanze knows what’s happening with the radios.”

“I’ll go tell Wangari, then,” Barbara said. She cleared half the room in a dreamlike hop and then rummaged under her bedside table, coming up with her crystal ball. “Let’s get everyone to tune their wands to this, so we can use it to keep touch. I’ve got pretty good security on this thing, so we can keep it private. I’ll leave it with Wangari.”

“Lotte’s at the commissary,” Sucy added, holding her wand out. Runes spun down its length and then vanished into the handle with a sound like tinkling hailstones. “Guess that’s your job, Hannah.”

Hannah double-checked her wand’s connection, letting its pommel fall into her palm like the magazine of a pistol, then slammed it home and dropped it onto her belt. “Sure.”

“And Hannah…” Barbara said, catching her hand in the hall, just before they parted. “I—I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry for being a big jerk about – I mean, you’re actually _grieving,_ and I couldn’t get it through my head to take it seriously. I can’t even say it’ll all go back to normal after this, because one of you is going back to the world where it won’t!”

“Well, I already knew you were a jerk,” Hannah replied, brushing her fingers across Barbara’s cheek. “Love ya anyway.”

“This is touching and all…” Sucy started, but the two had kissed and rushed off on their missions before she could finish the sentence. “What a thing to see,” she drawled, then dove into her own shadow and swam for home.

* * *

Luna Nova’s commissary was rarely busy, even on the weekends when it offered heavier fare. Fish and chips, hamburgers, chicken wings… for all their complaining about the cafeteria, it seemed that most of Luna Nova’s students had lost their taste for grease, or maybe the exorbitant prices warded them off. The Cashier Ogre relaxed behind the counter, chatting with the students drifting through and delicately poking at the cash register with one enormous finger. There was a separate counter with a grill and some fry vats, but he was able to reach across the room and man the place by himself. 

A few little-used tables stood along the edge of the room. Lotte was hunched over one with what looked like two meals, tucking in with the speed and urgency of a chipmunk, occasionally pausing to take swigs from a water bottle.

“There you are,” Hannah said, sitting heavily across from her. “Hold out your wand, will you? The radios are busted and we’re switching to Barbara’s crystal ball.”

Lotte looked up with her mouth full of onion rings and agreeably offered her wand. Hannah clinked hers against it, and the runes pattered from one to the other. After a deep swallow, Lotte said, “Thanks, Hannah,” then immediately dove back in.

For a disorienting moment, Hannah thought of her visit to _The Yellow Rose_ , marveling at Diana’s appetite. She didn’t know _what_ she felt now – angry? Sad? Definitely confused. Also, annoyed that she was drifting away into memory instead of doing what she came to.

“Oh, sorry for my manners,” Lotte said, hardly looking up. She’d started on the hamburger. “I just had to do some strenuous magic to help out Akko and Amanda, and then I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. And I have to stay hydrated in case Sucy… uh, well, never mind that.”

Hannah’s eyes darted to the ascot around her neck, widened, and flicked away.

Lotte hid a smile behind her hand.

“So anyway,” Hannah said to the wall. “Before I go, can I ask you a few quick questions about that riot we had a couple weeks back?”

“From the strike? Okay. What’s on your mind?”

Hannah turned back and shook her box of candy cigarettes. “Can you tell me what happened to you? I hate to admit it, but you guys are never just hiding under a bed.”

“Oh! Hm…” Lotte paused to order her memories. “We – me, Akko, and Sucy – went up the New Moon Tower to try and break down the magic-blocking panels the fairies had put up. We weren’t strong enough, though. But then a goblin appeared behind us, only I don’t think it was an actual goblin. I couldn’t sense its emotions at all – it was like some kind of machine! Just a bunch of parts.”

“A machine, huh?” Hannah murmured, glancing to the SSS collector humming in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, it was… it honestly scared me,” Lotte admitted, looking down at her folded hands. “It just stood there looking at us. And then it broke apart and reformed into some kind of… maybe a snake? I didn’t see it clearly. It broke through the panel and we all fell, but Croix’s Roombas caught us before we got too far. And before we made it to the ground, she’d done her spell to calm the fairies down, and… that was it, I guess. Is that what you’re looking for?”

“Wait, hang on,” Hannah said. “I think I saw something like that! I think I saw your robo-goblin! Right at of the start of the riot! It was a little guy, with glowing eyes, and it was like he was made of these black plastic…”

A dark cube silently drifted over the table between them like a dandelion seed.

“…cubes,” Lotte finished, as they both stared at it. They turned to find that someone had joined them. Professor Croix Meridies stood at their side with an easy smile, arms crossed, towering over them in a red cloak that seemed to stir dramatically in a nonexistent wind. As they made eye-contact, she removed her sunglasses and instantly became warm and approachable.

“Sorry for intruding,” Croix said lightly, and called the cube back to her hand with a playful flick of her wrist. “My surveillance system caught most of your little misadventure last night. I meant to approach you sooner, but I wanted to be sure of my analysis before I gave you hope. I think I may be able to help you girls get home.”

* * *

Constanze had not explained how to launch from the workshop.

Diana landed facedown in Green Team’s room, pulverizing their little table in a graceless belly flop. She briefly lay still, surprised at the pain flashing through her chest and face, then rose to a crouch and checked herself over. _The pain was just a warning – you’re fine._ The detector was undamaged, already reporting a signal 1.1km away to the southwest.

As she stood, Diana felt unsteady and vulnerable. A slow trickle of power threaded through the converter into her heart, wavering noticeably as she turned away from the New Moon Tower. _I suppose the charge I woke with is used up._ _If I had some time to rest, I could build up a reserve… but I’ve been lying around enough! I’ll just have to take it slowly._

Glancing to a mirror lying on Jasminka’s desk, she saw a pale face with huge, sunken eyes. Despite this body’s uncanny calm, she was obviously exhausted. Was she really about to go trudging through the halls of the school with a giant cedar staff, looking like death warmed over? What would everyone think? How would they respond to the Pride of Luna Nova being off her rocker?

_What’s wrong with me? I have a job to do. Focus!_

“Testing,” she sent on her internal radio, tapping the hairclip.

“RECEIVED,” a stanbot responded. “MS. CONSTANZE WISHES YOU LUCK.”

“Thank you. I’m setting out now.” Diana quickly hid the watch in a pocket and slung the rod over her shoulder, then did her best to briskly stride through the quiet halls like she wasn’t on a secret mission. Just another errand for the school, or experiment, or whatever, nothing to see here. Neither Diana had much experience with this sort of subterfuge, but at least she didn’t encounter any professors.

In her room, she donned her cloak, gloves, and heavy boots, and then downed another glass of water. _That’s so good!_ She turned towards the New Moon Tower and stood relishing the power and hydration flowing in. _I was suffering in the library and didn’t even realize it… I have to be more careful. Both of me, from now on. If only I could rest a little longer…_

Diana reached for her broom, hesitated, then turned back to brave the halls again. For a wonder, nobody had anything to say to her or ask her for – just pleasant nods and murmured greetings. If anyone wondered about the staff, they didn’t bring it up. It wasn’t long before she had pressed out into the darkness (at barely 6pm, how wretched), beneath a fall of heavy, wet, whirling snow. A razor-thin crescent moon leered down through the haze overhead, making the night feel even colder.

According to the detector, Jasminka’s position hadn’t changed. Without hesitation, Diana unslung her staff and trudged into the forbidden woods. Just a few hundred yards from the signal, she came upon a huge, teardrop-shaped crystal embedded in the ground. Remembering Amanda’s description of the tunnel, she froze and eyed it warily. When she took another step forward, it proved her caution wise.

“ **ALERT. HOSTILE SOULFORM IDENTFIED.** ” The crystal surged into an apelike form and spread its arms, deploying rows of jagged blades down their length. “ **DESTROY. DEST—this one is receiving new orders.** ” The blades retracted and it sat back down. “ **proceed quickly, honored guest. HER MAJESTY awaits.** ”

Diana had a hard time proceeding quickly. It occurred to her that, while Diana Bar had faced dangerous situations many times, she had never once had someone directly threaten her. It was a very different experience than an avalanche or storm, gripping her chest in a cold vice. After another moment, she realized that it was kind of appalling that Diana Prime _did_ have that experience, but at least the memory freed her.

“Move,” she said softly, and finally did.

Before long, Diana arrived at a small camp nestled in a shallow valley; only the very peak of the New Moon Tower gleamed over the forest line, nearly drowned out by the light of a firepit. A purple tarp was spread over some branches, sheltering a few small tables from the snow, piled high with books and plates of tarts and fruit. Jasminka sat in their midst on a cheap lawn chair, reading by a set of conjured lights hovering behind her head. Surprisingly, a Forest Ranger Goblin sat across the fire from her, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book of his own by the firelight. He glanced up and gave Diana a friendly nod when she arrived, then went back to his book.

Jasminka sat up slowly and closed the book in her lap. Her expression was serene, but held no warmth. “Diana Cavendish,” she said softly, over-enunciating each syllable. It was unsettling to hear her voice without its usual airy quality. For the first time, Diana wondered how much of her normal speaking voice – her whole personality, even – was affected. “Somehow, I knew it would be you. In fact, I expected you sooner.”

Diana lowered the detector and stood in an open, neutral stance.

“Welcome,” Jasminka said, spreading her hand with a sardonic smile. “To my queendom.”

* * *

“…and you’re happy?”

“THAT’S THE STRANGE THING.” If a stanbot could look pensive, this one did. “SO MANY DIED, BUT MS. CONSTANZE BAR RARELY THINKS ABOUT IT. IT IS LIKE A PIT IN HER MIND, WAITING, BUT IT WILL CLOSE OVER TIME. FOR NOW, SHE STAYS CLEAR, AND SHE IS HAPPY.”

Wangari didn’t know what she expected from interviewing Conz, but it wasn’t anything like this _._

“Well, whenever something horrible happens, everyone who’s left kinda has to find a way to keep going, right?” she suggested. “It’s not so strange that you’d find a way to be happy. And making it so that you can mostly keep to yourself, where every contact with other people is on your own terms, but you’re still helping them out – that seems like your style, I think.”

“IT IS MS. CONSTANZE’S WEAKNESS, AS WELL,” the stanbot said, then flailed awkwardly. “MS. CONSTANZE DID NOT MEAN TO SAY THAT. SHE APOLOGIZES. THE HEADSETS ARE A NEW TECHNOLOGY.”

Wangari paused, weighing her options. Follow up on the weakness, or give Conz an out? Might as well be nice. “Are the headsets something Constanze Prime was working on?”

“YES. MAGITRONICS. THEY READ THOUGHT WITHOUT IMPLANTS.”

“Classical cybernetics,” Wangari mused, unsure of which self knew this. “Where it’s just about interfaces between humans and tools, instead of chopping people up and adding robot parts.”

“PRECISELY. MS. CONSTANZE PRIME WANTS TO BE GREATER THAN HER BODY, BUT THIS DOES NOT REQUIRE SURGICALLY—” Suddenly, the stanbot’s eye filled with static and it sat down.

“Hello?” Wangari asked, poking its little head. “Conz? You there?”

The stanbot turned off.

“Pausing here,” she said, and turned off her recorder. In the silence that followed, she looked around the vestibule, drumming her hands on the table, then heaved a deep sigh and slumped. A chill blew across the room as another gaggle of students pushed in from a shopping trip. Eventually, she lowered her head onto her folded arms and sighed again into the desk.

“Joining us live is our on-the-scene reporter, Wangari Muthiga!” Barbara said, approaching at the desk. “Wangari?”

“We don’t want any,” Wangari said in a bedraggled tone, but then looked up at the _clunk_ from Barbara setting the crystal ball down in front of her. “What’s this?”

“Radios are broken,” Barbara replied. “We’re switching to the crystal ball for now. Are you… okay?”

Wangari dropped her head again. “Not really.”

Barbara lightly hopped up to sit on the desk next to her. This was strictly against the rules, but Professor Stolas was happening by at that moment, and didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not exactly a warm shoulder to cry on, but I just got a little practice with Hannah, so I _should_ be able to get through this without too many stupid jokes, if you want.”

“Don’t make good ones, either,” Wangari said into the table.

“Okay.”

“I didn’t think the interviews would be so…” Wangari sat up. “So, everyone’s traumatized? Well, not Lotte, she seems fine, but the others. Constanze came from a world where most of us are dead or chewed up, but she’s happy as long as she doesn’t stop to think about any of it. Hannah’s lost her love – you, who she gets to see as a ghost _here_ now, too – and she’s wrapped up in some scheme with her world’s Diana, which I’m 90% sure is going to end badly.” 

“Oh, it is,” Barbara agreed.

“I don’t want to hear about it. Meanwhile, we’ve got you, who _literally died,_ and right after hearing about that, I also learn that Barbara Prime is thinking about disappearing from the world, like nobody would care or something.” 

“Hey, come on, I’m working on that.”

“And I am _really_ not looking forward to Diana’s interview, if she ever makes it down here.”

“Hm? Why not her?”

“Because she’s got that weird emotion thing going on, and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna figure out that she actually _is_ feeling things, and they’re all bad, based on the way this fusion business seems to work. And I’m probably going to hear about whatever Diana Prime has got going on, which could be fine, or could be really not.”

“What do you mean, what she’s got going on?”

Wangari lifted tired eyes. “Come on, you live with her. You haven’t noticed?”

“I’ve noticed lots of things,” Barbara said, affronted. “But I don’t know what you’d be worried about now, in this particular horrid situation.”

“You were in the tower last night because she was working on a way to game the ritual to become the House of Cavendish head, right?”

Barbara gasped. “How did you know about that?”

“I do my homework, and I know the Venusian Eclipse is coming up. Not many other reasons a goody two-shoes like her would be experimenting with secret rituals in the middle of the night on a new moon.” Wangari pursed her lips, hesitating over the next part. “And do you think that she’ll be able to stay here as a full-time student when she has the affairs of the House to run?”

“Oh.” Barbara’s face went slack. _“Oh.”_

“Well, maybe she has a plan to, or a substitute in mind, or—”

“No, she’s gonna leave,” Barbara said dully, crashing straight through all five stages into acceptance. “She holds everyone at arm’s length – she’ll be pleasant with you, she’ll be helpful, but never friendly. Hannah can get her to open up a little, somehow, but I think it’s just that she’s so cute. And Diana’s never left a single mark on our room, just that stack of books. She was always planning to leave! Damn it, we’re such idiots.”

“You said…” Wangari started, then shook her head. The joke was sour on her tongue.

“Ha! You’d think I’d notice someone planning to disappear.” Barbara smiled bitterly. “I’ll bet she thinks we won’t care! I’ll bet she thinks she managed to keep everyone out! Damn. I guess that shows how dumb _I_ was to think that. Lesson learned. Can I borrow one of your notebooks?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.” After a few moments of listening to sleet slapping against the windows, Barbara swung her legs around the edge of the table and scooted into a chair at Wangari’s side. “But listening to you unloading has me wondering now… has anyone interviewed _you?_ If this is supposed to help, someone should help you, right?”

“No, but I haven’t…” Wangari shaded from distraction into fear for just a moment, then she shook her head. “I haven’t remembered anything.”

“That’s obviously a lie,” Barbara said. “But I won’t press you. Instead, I’m going to go take a nap. Apparently, ghosts need to sleep. Did you know that? Jot that down.”

“That _is_ interesting,” Wangari agreed. “But you’re part human, too.”

Barbara took a few steps away, but then turned back to Wangari slumped in her chair. After a long moment, she sat back down. “No, never mind, I lied. I’m going to keep bothering you.”

“Fine,” Wangari said. “But can you keep this a secret?”

Barbara drew a finger across her lips.

Wangari’s eyes grew distant, as though she were gazing across the table into a frozen wasteland. “This isn’t the first time I’ve visited another world.”

“ _What?_ ”

“And I’m afraid that this is going to turn out like the last time.”


	7. Barbara's Busy Evening

_Memory – Not the World of the Sandpiper_

“Open fire!” Commodore Finneran roared.

The Sandpiper lowered her speaking trumpet with a bemused smile. That was the shortest parlay she’d ever had the pleasure of botching. All across the bright horizon before her, puffs of smoke rose from Saxonite Empire warships, followed by distant reports, and then by the swiftly growing scream of 16-inch shells. She watched as they pummeled the ocean all around her, sinking as dead lumps of metal.

Someone seeing her on the prow of that little skiff, brown jacket and orange hair stirring in the wind, colorful scarf flying heroically, chin raised, shoulders squared, would never have guessed that she was inwardly collapsing with relief. Her companions, further back on the deck, wore their unease a little more openly. The mighty sorceress Joanna Quinn (of Dimension M2111) lowered her arms from the spell that had warded the shells away, while the cunning scientist Kimberly Watts (of Dimension T7170) looked up from the remote control for their next line of defense.

“Man, Jo, what would we do without you?” the Sandpiper asked.

“Die,” Kimberly volunteered before the sorceress could answer. “Which we’ll do if we don’t move, right now.”

“Always a ray of sunshine,” the Sandpiper said, sprinting back to the tiller to bring them about. “Some wind, please?”

Joanna swept her hands in a wide gesture that filled their sails. The skiff lurched and came about with dangerous speed, tilting alarmingly. Now they were racing back towards the Golden Peninsula, the land that the Saxonites had come to conquer. Its people were ready, thanks to a timely warning, but this operation would hopefully give them more of an edge. 

“I Captured an image of the admiral’s face when we failed to blow up, by the way,” Jo said. “We’re gonna get a good album from this trip!”

Kimberly chuckled down at her remote. “Classic.”

“Ready, Kim?” the Sandpiper asked, gripping the tiller with all of her strength. Joanna was really pushing them.

“I’ve been. Are _you_ ready?”

The Sandpiper nodded. A golden pattern was spreading beneath the skin of her hands, like a glowing tattoo in a circuit board pattern.

Behind them, one of the Saxonite warships hit the first de-mat mine and a perfectly circular section of its hull disintegrated into thin air. It pitched forward and its contribution to the second volley went right into the ocean. The rest went wide, no spell required – they were trying to shoot a tiny skiff moving at speed, after all. Another ship foundered and veered to one side, throwing itself across the course of a third before it started to sink.

“Aw, they missed one,” Kimberly grumbled. “I’ll disintegrate it.”

“Snipers!” Joanna cried. “I can sense their eyes! Sandpiper, when…?”

“Same amount of time as always!” the Sandpiper snapped. Joanna never seemed to grasp that she couldn’t control how fast the Dimension Drive spun up. “Get down!”

Bullets started to zing and plink all around them. “A lot of them,” Kimberly observed blandly before Joanna pulled her down. “Okay, okay. Three mines left. I’ll set them to self-destruct in ten minutes if a ship doesn’t hit ‘em.”

“One minute,” the Sandpiper said. The glowing pattern was spreading over her body, creeping up her neck and invisibly down her back. “Got any more wards for us?”

“I’ve _been_ warding us,” Joanna said, covering her head. “I hate this part!”

“I should just not tell you when I start charging up…” the Sandpiper started to peek up over the edge of the skiff, but Joanna pushed her back down. She could hear another warship hitting a de-mat mine, though. “Okay, get close. Three, two…” She grabbed their hands and a beam of golden light hurled them from Dimension N0147 just as the third volley came down and a lucky shot finally smashed the skiff to kindling.

The beam carried them bouncing through the crystal maze of worlds, back to Dimension A0 – the former home of the Caretakers.

The companions collapsed onto a grassy ridge overlooking a dead city beneath a coppery overcast sky. Joanna immediately sprang to her feet and looked around in a panic, while Kimberly sat up and took in the scene more sedately. For her part, the Sandpiper stayed face-down, spread-eagled in the cool grass. She’d used the Dimension Drive in her body hundreds of times, and it always made her feel like her insides had been scoured with a blowtorch.

The city was still and silent, as always. Before the fall of the Caretakers, it had been limned in colorful lights, a beautiful crystal metropolis in the image of the space between dimensions. Now, it was just a jagged field of blades and barrows. Its ruin was a humbling sight for anyone, but especially for the Scion of the Caretakers. Maybe that’s why she kept coming back.

“Not a bad job,” the Sandpiper said, pushing up to her hands and knees, then settling back on her heels. “The Saxonites will find it a lot harder to colonize that peninsula now!”

“I wish we could’ve helped more,” Joanna said.

“Me too,” the Sandpiper admitted. “But history has to remember that the people of the Peninsula defeated the Saxonites, not some mysterious strangers from the sky.”

“We couldn’t have beaten them,” Kimberly reminded them. “The three of us against an armada? They’d simply have killed us.”

Joanna frowned. “Oh, come on, Kim, you know what she…”

“No, no,” the Sandpiper said distractedly, looking up to the distant Zenith Tower. It had once housed a titanic computer that organized a thousand worlds to match the Caretakers’ ideal of Harmony, and never mind what their inhabitants thought. “She has a point. We just help. We’re not the heroes. Always got to remember that, or we’ll start wanting to take control. We’ll start to _grab on._ ” She noticed both of her companions dramatically grasping the air in time to _grab on,_ and broke off with a scoff. “Okay, you’re tired of that speech. Sorry.”

“It’s a good one, at least,” Joanna said consolingly.

“We should rest and decompress a bit, yeah? I should be good for another few jumps in a week or so. I’d love to get planning it right now, but…” the Sandpiper yawned. “Right. I’m going to go get some sleep, but first, there’s something I’ve got to say, that I _don’t_ say enough.” She reached out and set a hand on each of their shoulders. “Listen, I might’ve come from this shithole, but it’s not my home. You two – _you two_ are the world I most want to protect.”

“We know,” Kimberly said. “But it’s nice to hear, I suppose.”

“Aw, you sap!” Joanna cried. “How am I gonna sleep _now_ , with my heart going pitter-pat?”

The three set out for their sanctums in that desolate world, already looking forward to their next adventure.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Rather than a specific story, Wangari went with the broad strokes of her adventures between worlds. Strange creatures discovered, tyrants opposed, friends made, disasters warned of… and a _lot_ of running from monsters. With Wangari Prime’s perspective, she was starting to realize what a silly amount of time she spent running from monsters.

“You’re a superhero?” Barbara asked.

“One of the worlds I visit calls me a superhero,” Wangari said. “But that’s not what I’d say. I just stumble into things and try to help. Sometimes people want to come with me, and I take them. Most of the time, I don’t. It’s a life.”

“I was all cheerful about being a washed-up fool wandering around clowning for coins, and now you’re talking about jumping from world to world getting into crazy adventures, and saying ‘mnuh, it’s a life’ about it!”

“It lost its luster when… something happened. I don’t remember what. It was on a world we were just recently visiting, though. A place where cities hide from the sun. I met Sucy there… she was some kind of vampire, I think?”

“Wait a second,” Barbara said, perking up. “Wait, you knew a creepy vampire Sucy?”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Wangari replied, and ignored her laugh. “But I’ve met a few people I think might be on her beam.”

“What do you mean, on her beam?”

“You saw it during the ritual, right? When you went out between the worlds, you were flying on a beam of light, going through all of the different planes? That was you, or like the _idea_ of you, and then each of us is a spark from our beam hitting the world. I think the beams shooting through side by side is why different versions of us know the same people.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that.” Barbara started to smile. “Wait, so… even if I disappear, there’ll still be a Beam of Barbara that…”

“No.” Wangari hit the table lightly. “No, stop. No disappearing. The sparks are still precious.”

“Can’t blame a ghost for trying,” Barbara said ruefully. “So you know what’s happening to us?”

“I think Akko and Diana figured it out. Me Bar didn’t even know that fusing like this was possible, so they know _more_ than me, probably.”

“No, I mean the other us! The Us Bars? Like, are you lying in a coma in some other world while you’re here at Luna Nova? Or are we in both places at once? Or maybe we’re like zombies?” 

Wangari put a finger to her chin. “Me Bar doesn’t remember her schooling very well, but sometimes you can get situations where peoples’ consciousnesses are projected into other worlds, and from their perspective, time’s stopped back home. If you were looking at it from the outside, it’d be like a bubble appearing on the plane they’re visiting – time sort of ‘piling up’ in that one place. Does that make sense?”

“Barely.”

“I’ll try and remember more, if I can.” Wangari said. “If I can get a better grip on this Caretaker stuff, I might be able to help with the ritual. Also, thanks. I think talking about it helped a little. I feel like… it’s not grief, exactly, but I lost them somehow?”

“Glad to help,” Barbara said, surprised to find she meant it. It had even helped her to push back her hurt over Diana, a little. “Now, how about I go get you your next interview? How bad can Sucy’s be?”

“At this point?” Wangari slouched back in her seat. “Sure. Mess me up.”

* * *

The moon gleamed over drifting snow and Jasna’s dark eyes cut through the fire’s light. Diana shifted awkwardly, unwilling to move closer. Even with her muted emotions, the tension was suffocating.

“You can ignore me,” the Forest Ranger Goblin said. “I’m just here to keep an eye on the wayward student until she’s ready to come back.”

Diana gave him a nod and returned her attention to Jasminka, shying from meeting her wide, calm eyes. “Hello,” she said carefully. “We’ve been worried about you.”

“I can imagine,” Jasminka said. “I’ve been worried, too.”

Diana wasn’t sure how to respond to that. There were many ways to interpret it; given the potential danger, she didn’t want to guess wrong.

“Did Constanze make that staff for you?” Jasminka asked. “And did she tell you what it is?”

“She created it, yes, and instructed me in its use. It seems to be designed to pinpoint demons, but I have no explanation for how she could have known that the visiting Jasminka would be associated with a demon.”

A bit of an edge appeared in Jasminka’s smile. “Oh, is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything, and then slapped me when I asked too many questions.”

“That sounds like her. She’s a good friend.” Jasminka’s face fell. “She probably should have warned you this time, though…”

“Constanze also advised me to be straightforward with you. I’m asking you to come back to Luna Nova because we’re developing a ritual to undo the disaster we suffered last night.”

Jasminka didn’t miss a beat. “I refuse.”

“Why?”

“Because I killed you,” Jasminka said flatly. “I don’t remember the moment it happened. I can’t. I don’t _want_ to remember, even though the hole makes me—” She coughed and clutched her middle, pushing the plate of tarts she’d been enjoying away. “I-I clearly remember your face, though. I _know_ that I did it. It would be strange enough if I just expected to see a different Diana, but now you’re like a ghost.”

“I see.” Diana nodded slowly. “I would not be the Diana you expected to see in any case.”

“Ah. You’re possessed, too. Did you choose yours?”

“Not as such. It was… an impulsive wish.” Not strictly true, but there was no time to get into her theories about what the visiting selves could gain, or the longstanding desires that might have contributed to their selections.

Jasna gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Same.”

“Counting you, there are ten of us in total, and we’re all working to fix this. If you want to help your other self—"

“What?” Jasminka cried. “Wh-why would I want to help her? I _hate_ her!”

Jasminka’s shadow rippled and spread, swallowing the fire’s light and leaving the campsite floating on a pool of perfect blackness. No, not perfect – there was something down there, a faint, malevolent blue glimmer winding in lazy circles.

The Forest Ranger Goblin stood up, folded his blanket neatly on the ground, and gave the two of them a casual wave. “You two have a good day, now,” he said, and trotted off.

Diana stood her ground. “Which Jasminka is it that hates the other?”

“Does it matter? We’re both! _I’m_ both. No. No, no, no…” Jasminka curled into a ball and her shadow stabilized, settling beneath her in a perfect, unnatural circle. “Why can’t I hold it in? When I saw myself lording over all those knights… I didn’t think I would be so _weak._ ” She rocked to her feet and stomped a boot down. Her shadow rippled like a black pond, sloshed eagerly to her ankles, then subsided, revealing the grass and dirt beneath her.

Diana was starting to wish Constanze had explained more.

“I hate them both…” Jasminka said, covering her face. Her voice grew higher and softer, and she almost started to sound like Luna Nova’s familiar old Jasna. “She’s a brute! She takes whatever she wants, and hurts whoever she wants to get it. She never has to hold herself back, never has to think about anyone else! I can’t believe I could be someone like that!” Then her voice plunged, cold and hard. “But worse… even worse… the girl here, the witch! She proves that I didn’t have to be that way! I could have been gentle! I could have been kind! Imagine a lifetime of triumph and glory turning into a nightmare!”

Diana took a hesitant step towards her but stopped when her shadow rippled again.

“I can’t face everyone. I have to stay away.”

“You must,” Diana said, grateful for the android’s even voice. “We need your help, and we need to help _you._ We’re making great progress; you’ll each be free of the other soon enough.”

“I hurt you all so much. I _killed_ you! I think Hannah, too. And _Lotte,_ of all people! Why would I do that?”

“That will be for the Queen to deal with. You—"

“You’re talking to the Queen, too!” Jasna snapped. “ _I’m here too, you fool!_ And I could decide to kill you again!”

“And do you think that you’re so unstoppable here, to us?” Diana asked.

Jasminka lunged with terrifying speed. Perhaps she intended to make her point by moving faster than Diana could follow and seizing her lapel, but her hand closed on air.

“You mustn’t be arrogant,” Diana said calmly, then dodged another grab and hopped back from a sweep at her legs. She landed in a broad stance, gripping the cedar rod like a quarterstaff before her. At her wrist, the demon detector started flashing red. “You’re among witches, remember. You know what that means, Jasminka! We’re keepers of mysteries and horrors; are you really so much worse?”

“Yes!” Jasminka cried, voice breaking. “Because it’s – because it’s me! Why am I attacking you? What’s wrong with me?” She clutched her head. “It’s all wrong! Everything’s wrong, and I can’t–!” Her shadow boiled up again and a sinuous shape emerged at her heels, arcing over her head like a striking viper and peeling open into a gaping maw of blue fire.

Diana almost froze again, but her witch’s heart was steeled. With the android’s speed and precision, she thrust the cedar rod up into the demon’s mouth and twisted to the side, lashing it into the ground. The cedar smoldered and flamed, and stinking pits sizzled into the cobalt. Of course – this wasn’t a weapon. It would only buy her a few seconds.

As the demon reared back, Diana dropped the rod and unstrapped the watch connecting it to her. She had only one weapon left. Her wand flashed out and she struck a dueling stance, drawing a breath to speak her first spell since the ritual. If she could. The fear of it tried to grip her, but there was no time. “ _Muro—!_ ”

“No,” Jasminka said coldly, and seized a handful of the demon’s flesh. Just as it rose to strike, she turned gracefully and swung its body over her head, cracking it like a whip. A stately pine exploded into splinters from the impact, and another broke in two as she swung the demon to the side. It doubled back on itself to strike at her, but met with her fist – a swift, confident punch the Jasminka of Luna Nova could never have thrown.

Diana quietly stepped back and slipped her wand back onto her belt.

Jasminka released the demon and it slurped back into her shadow with a bone-chilling screech, trailing blue flame and acrid smoke. She stood still for a few moments, panting, then turned back. “I’ve never had to do that before,” she said, bewildered. “I’ve never had trouble keeping it sealed. It’s the Queen – her – my whole life was built on my strength, but this pudgy little child is stronger than I ever was!”

“We’ll free you both. We’ll free the Queen of the demon, and Jasminka of the Queen, and…” Diana fell to one knee. “Please, come back with me. We all…” The strength was going out of her. She’d spent too much. First in the fight, and now in straining her mind to figure out how to talk to two Jasminkas in one. “…we’re all so worried…”

“Oh. Oh no!” Jasminka rushed to her side and caught her as she started to slump. “D-did it hurt you? Did I?”

“No, I’m just… tired…” Diana tapped the power converter. “Turn me towards the New Moon Tower, please?”

Cradling Diana in her arms, Jasminka turned. “Like this?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“ _You’re_ sorry!” Jasminka scoffed.

“I never… I’m not used to…” Diana closed her eyes and let her thoughts scatter. Something about being held like this summoned a horrible lurch deep in her chest, but she let it go, and it faded. As Jasna kept her steady, strength flowed back into her limbs and focus pooled behind her eyes. “I see,” she finally murmured. “I may know a bit of how you feel.”

“You do?”

“I feel my strength is failing me, the qualities I was always proud of. I’m… not used to being tended to. Amanda carried me recently, but I haven’t been _held_ like this since…” Oh. Well, that explained the lurch. No need to go into it. “My other self, the visiting Diana… she’s experienced this more, having her body give out on her. She found it embarrassing, but it didn’t diminish her. I should let her guide me.”

“Yes. It’s okay to need help sometimes.” Jasminka sounded more familiar now. Was she experiencing the same thing as Diana, where her selves seemed to rise and fall? “That’s a power converter over your heart, isn’t it? Constanze was experimenting with those. I think I can…”

Jasminka produced her wand and flicked it, whispering a spell. A green flare rose from its tip, flickered into orange, and settled between Diana’s chest and the distant peak of the New Moon Tower. Diana gasped as the flow of power doubled, tripled – and then hit a safety limiter, filling her with warmth. A memory of cuddling with Perry as she recovered on her charging bed floated across her mind.

“Is that okay?” Jasna asked anxiously.

“It is. It is! How…?”

“I’m good with energy. Heat, light, magnetism, x-rays…” Her habitual smile grew a little. “…calories. It’s my specialty.”

“And from a glance you… Jasminka, this is astonishing!”

Jasminka just shrugged, though Diana could see that she was pleased. “I can make the spell send the power to you. Come sit by the fire with me.” They walked together back to her pavilion and sat side-by-side on the lawn chair. They made it just as the snow started to turn back into rain, but it thankfully failed to dent the fire. Jasna kept holding her, which should have been awkward, but wasn’t.

“Will you come back?” Diana asked after a few moments. Without thinking, she let her head rest on Jasminka’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“We were using Constanze’s radios to keep contact, but there’s some kind of interference blocking them. I can’t even reach her workshop with the booster she gave me. I would at least like to leave you with a way to contact us, and vice-versa.”

“Mm.” Jasminka raised an arm and one of the purple crystal creatures lumbered from the darkness and held out its hand. She reached out and broke one of its fingers off, then dismissed it with a gesture.

“What are they?”

“Just tools. Like stanbots, but simpler… and uglier.”

“I think they’re pretty,” Diana said, then blinked. It felt like a strange sentiment to slip through her guard, but harmless enough.

“You haven’t seen them covered in blood. Here.” Jasminka pressed the length of purple crystal into Diana’s hand. “I’m rewriting this now. Break it when you need me. Just… please remember how much it’ll hurt to see everyone when I’m like this. Please make sure it’s an emergency, or that I can help you end this.”

“Understood,” Diana said. “I won’t use it frivolously.”

Jasminka hugged her. Diana wasn’t sure how long they rested like that, listening to the crackling fire and rain pattering on the pavilion.

“I always thought you didn’t like me,” Diana admitted, after a while.

“I didn’t,” Jasminka replied. “But you were so gallant in the fight, and so understanding after… I think I misjudged you.”

“Likewise. There are so many people at this school I’ve underestimated.” Diana pulled away. “I think I’m… full? Can you…?” The flare winked out. “Thank you very much. Now, do you have a message for anyone? I think that Constanze, in particular, would appreciate word.”

“Just tell everyone not to worry, and that I’ll help if you need me. And for Conz… um, tell her that I forgive her. She’ll understand.”

“As you wish. I’ll be off then. And truly, thank you.”

“It was the least I could do, after…” Jasminka gestured to her shadow.

Diana stood, and was shocked by how easy it was – and then shocked by the fact that simply standing was such a revelation. “Well, then,” she said, a little awkwardly, and set out. After a moment, she turned back. “One last question: was that a Demon of Wrath?”

“Were you expecting Gluttony?” Jasminka asked. Was that a joke? Her smile was back, which didn’t tell Diana anything. She was like Conz, in that.

“No. I was… not expecting a demon at all.”

Jasminka laughed, and Diana decided that was a good note to leave on.

* * *

Croix stopped the party at the base of the New Moon Tower, just outside of the elevator. “Now, you two wait here,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting guests, so my lab isn’t very safe right now. I just have to tidy up a little. It won’t take me a moment!”

This left Hannah and Lotte waiting in the tower’s cool, dim atrium. Now and again, Hannah stole a glance towards the chapel where her part in the disaster had played out. A few times, Lotte opened her mouth as though to speak, but reconsidered. The two of them had a lot to talk about, but after weeks of having nothing good to say to each other, it was hard to get started.

“This is probably a mistake,” Hannah finally said. “And I think she’s blackmailing us, a little.”

“How? With what?”

“She’ll want us to keep this secret, and whatever we see up there. And for leverage, she knows that you were secretly doing a ritual you could get expelled for.” Hannah leaned back against the wall and sighed. “Honestly, it’s a big mess you’ve gotten us into.”

“You helped,” Lotte reminded her.

They lapsed back into silence for a time.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Lotte asked timidly.

“You can ask,” Hannah allowed. “I probably won’t answer.”

“Mm,” Lotte said. She fell quiet long enough to give the impression she’d given up before continuing in a very soft voice. “What’s dating Barbara like?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry,” Lotte said, looking away. “That was too personal, wasn’t it?”

“I dunno,” Hannah said idly. Lotte was surprised by the mild response, but then she couldn’t _always_ be in bullying mode. “I’m not sure what to say. Why do you want to know? That’s kind of a weird question.”

“Me Bar’s dating her Barbara. I thought I could learn a little about that side of me from you.”

“Huh. Why would you date someone like her?”

Lotte blinked. “I expected you to ask why _she’d_ date someone like _me._ ”

“Either way! It’s a total mismatch. The only thing I can think of you have in common is those dumb vampire books.”

“Learn to appreciate fine art, you vulgarian,” Lotte said, then covered her mouth with a nervous laugh. “That was _definitely_ Me Bar coming out! Which is funny, because that side of me doesn’t get _Night Fall,_ either.”

“Heh. Vulgarian.” Hannah leaned back against the wall and got a pensive look. “Fine, I’ll bite. Barbara’s great. She’s kind of a self-absorbed asshat sometimes, but so am I, and I think that’s how we both know to be patient with each other? When I first met her, we just clicked. Not even really love at first sight, I just thought, ‘yes.’ It was like I’d known her for years. What’s it like with your Barbara?”

“Aheh, not that,” Lotte said. She hugged herself and squirmed. “It’s… what should I say? Tempestuous? We fight a lot, but it’s never bad, and we… hee… make it up to each other. I don’t remember much of that, but it makes Me Bar really happy. The fights do, too, in a strange way. It’s like I learned not to be scared of conflict from her, and how I could be angry without hurting people. I don’t think we’ll stay together after we graduate, but for now… it’s nice.”

“I wonder if your Barbara is different from mine—” Hannah flinched as though struck. “I mean—ours, Barbara Prime, I mean – or if you’re seeing a different side of her?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“She wears the same perfume.”

“How do you—? Never mind.”

“That’s a pattern I’ve noticed,” Wangari’s voice chimed from Lotte’s wand. She yelped and snatched it from her belt, and Wangari continued in a softer voice. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I’m trying to figure out Barbara’s crystal ball.”

“That was a private conversation,” Hannah said testily.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“What’s the pattern?” Lotte asked. “Not remembering se—not remembering intimacy?”

“Sex, violence, secrets. We’re all getting pretty intense stuff, but I think there’s a limit – or more like our selves can hide things from each other. I think we can choose what to keep, too, ‘cause nobody’s forgetting magic stuff, but that’s different for everyone. Far as I know, Barbara’s the only one who remembers getting hurt really badly in her world, and nobody remembers killing anyone even when they know they did, and I’m pretty sure the Primes are hiding things from the Bars. Like right now I can’t remember my date nights with Kim, ‘cause there’s no _way_ Wangari Bar wants to know what we get up to.”

“Uh,” Lotte said awkwardly.

“Yeah, maybe I overdid it there,” Wangari admitted. 

“Are you sure you aren’t just forgetting the date nights?” Hannah asked. “Maybe they’re just getting overwritten by your other self.”

“Hannah… _please_.” Wangari’s voice was sharp, more pained than angry. “Why would you think that’s okay to say? But look, I’m sorry for intruding, but can I stay on the line? I’d rather not be alone righ—"

“DESIST,” a stanbot snapped through Hannah’s wand. Hannah grabbed it and ended up awkwardly holding it up to Lotte’s so they could talk.

“Sorry, what?” Wangari sputtered. “Who is this? Is that one of Conz’s robots?”

“CRYSTAL BALL TELEMETRY INDICATES HANNAH AND LOTTE ARE IN THE NEW MOON TOWER. MS. CONSTANZE HAS GAINED ACCESS TO MERIDIES’S SURVEILLANCE SYSTEM AND HAS CONFIRMED THAT SHE IS APPROACHING ON THE ELEVATOR. YOU MUST RETREAT.”

“We’re here to see her,” Lotte said.

“We’re gathering information,” Hannah added.

“MS. CONSTANZE INSISTS THAT YOU FLEE. MERIDIES’S LAB IS THE SOURCE OF THE RADIO JAMMING. FURTHERMORE, MS. CONSTANZE BAR KNOWS MERIDIES AS THE SOUTHERN CR— _DISCONNECT NOW._ ”

The wands went dark just as the elevator reached their floor and eased open. Croix stepped out, stretching casually. “I’m sorry that took so long! I’d forgotten how paranoid I…” She noticed that they were standing with their wands out like a couple of idiots and looked between them awkwardly. “Ah, am I interrupting a duel or something?”

Hannah affected a cocky smirk and dropped her wand back onto her belt. “ _Told_ you mine was bigger.”

Lotte doubled over laughing. It was only half from nerves. _Sucy must have been the one to tell Constanze what happened,_ she mused as they boarded the elevator. _I wonder how that went?_

* * *

Constanze racked her shotgun one-handed and stood up on her chair, searching the shadows with furious eyes.

Sucy’s voice floated out of the darkness. “Why is everyone so jumpy lately?”

Conz lowered her gun and cupped a hand to her ear.

“Yeah, shooting that thing off in this little room was pretty dumb,” Sucy agreed. She emerged from the shadows very slowly, arms spread, hands open, and at a good distance. “I’m just here about the radios breaking. We’re switching to a crystal ball, so show me your wand.”

Constanze didn’t seem happy about that, but held out her wand to accept the tuning.

“So you fixed up Diana,” Sucy said idly, as the runes flew between them. “Do I have to go find her, now?”

Constanze shook her head and held up a whiteboard. _Signal booster. She can reach me here._

“’Kay. Want me to grab you anything out there?”

Constanze trotted over to her desk, wrote down a complicated order for the commissary, stacked a few bills on top of it, wrote _KEEP THE CHANGE_ in big letters at the bottom, then thrust the stack into Sucy’s hands.

“Not a lot of shadows in there.” Sucy pocketed the stack. “Just don’t shoot me when I get back, okay?”

Constanze nodded gravely.

* * *

The elevator ride up might have been awkward, but Croix’s easy charm made it seem perfectly natural. Hannah and Barbara leaned on opposite walls with Croix between them, arms casually crossed, cape hanging off one shoulder. It was hard to imagine such a light, enthusiastic voice coming from a ruthless schemer.

“The ritual you girls performed was designed by one of the Nine Olde Witches, Lesleigh Woodward, around 400 years ago. I… have some interest in her work, so I recognized it instantly. I wondered if I should come down and stop you, as a professor, but…” Croix spread her hands. “I was so caught up in seeing it in action that I didn’t even notice what was going on below you!”

Hannah blinked. “Wait a second, Woodward? Didn’t she die 500 years ago? 1560-something?”

“Yes,” Croix said carelessly. “Thereabouts.”

Hannah and Lotte shared a look. Hannah wheeled a finger around her temple, but Lotte shook her head.

“What do you want to do, Professor Meridies?” Lotte asked.

“The ritual is only supposed to last for a few seconds, though your subjective experience of the communion would have been much longer. The way I picture this working is that we recreate the closing moments of the summoning ritual with all of my instruments and safety equipment in place, and then turn the power up on it to see if it starts drawing you apart. It should prompt you to make a sort of… cognitive matrix, a mental map that the ritual can use to match the visitor to their home and send them back.”

“Akko said it was like your heart making a music note.”

“Oh, she’s adorable,” Croix said. “It sounds like you were already on the right track, then. With my laboratory and the power of the Sorcery Solution System behind us, we—!” She broke off and looked to the security camera in the corner of the elevator; for a split-second her eyes were chips of green ice and her mouth a hard line, but then her pleasant look came back. “Sorry. I thought I saw something.”

Lotte folded into herself.

“That sounds dangerous,” Hannah said, eyes darting to the camera. _Did she notice Conz messing with it? Keep her talking!_ “Turning up the power on us like that.”

“I won’t lie. We’re in uncharted territory,” Croix said. “It could be dangerous, but any measure we could possibly take might turn out to be just as bad.” She started tapping her foot and sighed. “I really need to speed this elevator up. Do either of you know what design they used? Everything in this school is so outmoded…”

“I saw a counterweight on the way in,” Barbara announced at her elbow. “But I don’t know anything about elevators!”

Hannah and Lotte yelped in shock, but Croix just turned and smiled. “It’s not urgent,” she said. “Parker, is it? Barbara Parker? Welcome! Glad you could join us.”

Barbara took a step back towards Hannah, visibly disappointed at the lack of reaction. “And what am I joining you for? This wasn’t a group I was expecting to find.”

“Sending your guests home, of course!” Croix said brightly. “Oh, and I suppose I’ll take the opportunity to show off my lab.”

“I was just checking up on—” Barbara started, casually taking Hannah’s hand.

“Ah!” Hannah cried. “Barb, your hand’s like ice!”

“Well, yes, is that new?” Barbara wobbled on her feet. “Huh, I’m – I’m starting to feel a little warm, actually. Is it getting hotter in here?” She held up her hand and it _blurred,_ and then smeared through the air with the elevator’s slow progress, as though her body were a watercolor painting on the world, revealing deep blue light beneath. “Ooh, that’s nifty.”

“Barbara…?” Hannah quavered.

Barbara lowered her head and her hair cascaded down in an indistinct blob, which spared them a gruesome sight as her whole form started to fade and melt. Hannah’s hand closed through Barbara’s and she yanked it back, bitten angry pink by the cold. 

“It must be the stone, like with Sucy!” she cried, breath misting. “The Sorcerer’s Stone is hurting her!”

Lotte whipped her wand out and called, “ _Tectumbrae!_ ” A sparkling green canopy spread over Hannah and Barbara, blocking out most of the Stone’s light. The canopy faltered almost immediately, struggling as the elevator lumbered its way up towards the Stone, but Barbara’s outlines firmed beneath it. “Y-you’re right! It’s working!”

“Everyone, hold on!” Croix barked, and swiped her tablet. A deep, vicious _snap_ sounded above them, and the car started falling. After a moment, Croix swiped twice and something jerked the car to a stop, then started lowering them gently. She landed smoothly on her feet as her students sprawled all over the floor with a rippling thud, and looked to the ceiling with a growl. “No safety system? Who _built_ this thing?”

The unnatural cold faded as they drifted back down.

“Are you okay? Barbara?” Hannah murmured, huddling close to her girlfriend, breath still smoking. “Barbara, hey…”

Lotte’s canopy dissolved with a sputter, showering them with green sparks.

“Yeah. Yes.” Barbara had finally recovered enough to return Hannah’s embrace. She’d regained her form, but her colors weren’t all there yet – her skin was paper white, and her eyes were rings of blue gleaming out of utter darkness. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Sorry, I should have just dropped out of the car. I-I panicked.”

“Understandably,” Croix said, but then her concerned look shifted to curiosity. “I assume your visitor is some kind of incorporeal creature?”

“A ghost, I think?” Barbara said, then muttered, “Gosh, you’re warm,” to Hannah.

Croix ignored the PDA at her feet. “A type of ghost that’s _inimical_ to magical power, rather than drawing life from it? _Fascinating._ ” She turned back. “Can you use magic yourself?”

“A little. I was able to use my crys—ah.” As Barbara glanced around nervously, natural color bloomed in her eyes. Right, that was supposed to be their secret _from_ Croix, assuming Constanze was correct about the interference. “I haven’t tried any big spells, and now I’m scared to. And what’s with that look, Lotte?”

Lotte had retreated into a corner of the elevator car to give the couple as much space as possible, and now huddled, biting back tears. “I was just worried. S-sorry. I’m coming down from it. Please, don’t mind me.”

“Heh, you look just like…” Barbara glanced to Hannah, then back up to Lotte. “Oh. _Oh._ ”

Lotte had turned vividly red again, and looked like she wished _she_ was the one melting through the floor.

“Is _that_ what’s going on?” Barbara floated free of Hannah’s arms and then gave her a hand up, staring at Lotte with a serious, slightly confused expression. “You have a thing for You Bar’s Barbara, don’t you? Maybe you’re even a couple! Damn. I feel like I should apologize for… ha… where would I start? I guess for getting in your bubble earlier. Start with that.”

“Sure,” Lotte croaked, averting her eyes.

“Oh… c’mon. Here, this is going to be weird, but…” Barbara stepped up and gave Lotte a quick hug, passing her hands through the walls of the elevator to pull it off. “ _Half_ of you likes this, right?”

Lotte just sighed.

“Good thinking with that shield spell of yours,” Barbara added, stepping back. “I’ll, uh, try and lay off of you from now on. _Oh!_ ” She turned back. “Hannah, I – this isn’t – um, I’m not making a move on her. This is, I just realized–”

“No, I think I follow,” Hannah said. “Me and her talked about it.”

“Ha. Good detective.”

Hannah crossed her arms. “Now, how about we talk this out when we don’t have an audience?”

As one, all three turned to Croix, who was clearly filling a mental notebook with her observations on six-students-in-three bouncing off each other. “Don’t mind me,” she said mildly.

“Okay, let’s worry about all the rest of that nonsense later. I’m going to go and let everyone else know what these two are up to,” Barbara said, then added, with a pointed look to Croix, “Just in case. Looks like this is my floor!” She dropped through the bottom of the car and it rippled under their feet. The temperature rose a few degrees as it solidified.

“I cannot _wait_ until she has a normal body again,” Hannah said, shivering.

Lotte giggled weakly, then looked freshly mortified and covered her eyes.

“Well, that was exciting,” Croix said, poising a finger over her tablet. “And now that one of my sorcery units is carrying us, the rest of the ride should be much quicker. Going up!”

* * *

_Memory – The World of the Phantom Thief Dasher_

“Thanks for not tying me up,” Atsuko said. “I guess.”

“Oh my God,” Dasher replied. “Don’t thank me for that. That’s just depressing. What the hell?”

They sat on folding chairs on the mezzanine of an abandoned warehouse tucked away in a dark corner of Lunopolis’s waterfront district. It was nearly 1am, but they were still firmly on schedule. This was the final step of Dasher’s sinister plot to “try harder,” and if the Silver Sentry wasn’t able to find it by the address in the ransom note, she would surely be able to see the enormous stylized D spray-painted on the metal roof.

Now that they were here, though, Dasher was starting to crumple around an anxious, acidic feeling in their gut. Atsuko was reminding them of a mouse, and not in a cute way. Huge eyes darting to every sound, breath quick but even, nearly silent. She was on high alert, which made perfect sense – she’d just been kidnapped by a supervillain, after all.

The Phantom Thief Dasher: supervillain. Scoundrel. Kidnapper.

“This is stupid,” Dasher said. “I should just let you go. What was I thinking?”

“It really is,” Atsuko agreed. “But I can’t go.”

 _Of course,_ Dasher realized. _She can’t wander around alone here. You took her to the most dangerous corner of Lunopolis like a numbskull!_

“If the Silver Sentry comes and I’m not here,” Atsuko continued. “It might be bad for you.”

_Shit, that’s another problem._

“What do you think she’d do?” Dasher asked, then wondered aloud. “What _will_ she do?”

“What did you even want her to do?” Atsuko asked sullenly. “And what are _you_ going to do when she comes? I’m starting to wonder if you even know!”

Dasher drew themself up angrily to answer, then shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t, really. I just have to face her! She has to hear what I have to say!”

“And what do you—?”

“I don’t _know!_ ” Dasher cried. “I’m still thinking about it. We might fight! We might not! I didn’t think ahead that far, okay? I just – I–!”

Atsuko dropped her face into her hands. “Are you kidding me? This is the dumbest kidnapping I’ve ever been through!”

“What, you _rate_ them?” Dasher squawked, trying not to wonder about all the ways they might stack up against Poison Dart or Fafnir Fang Foom. The very thought made them spring to their feet and start pacing.

“Oh, that’s not even the point! Tell me what your plan is, Ama… are you… sorry, are you Amanda or Alexander now?”

“Right now? I’m just Dasher.”

“I guess you’re right,” Atsuko said coldly. “I’m not sure I recognize you.”

 _That_ stung. Dasher sat down heavily. “M-more Amanda than Alexander,” they said. “If I had to pick. Still a ‘they,’ though.”

After a long moment, Atsuko asked in a too-calm voice, “You really don’t have a plan?”

“Of course I–! No.”

“You just… decided to kidnap me to get the Silver Sentry’s attention, and you didn’t think about what would happen when she came? _Siegel and Shuster!_ I went along with you because I trusted you not to get anyone hurt!” Atsuko clutched her head and gave a long, gravelly whine. “Usually _I’m_ the impulsive idiot getting into trouble! Is this what Diana feels like all the time?”

“Who?”

Atsuko covered her mouth with both hands. “Pen-pal.”

“Whatever,” Amanda said. “Look, I made sure the Silver Sentry would be able to find us. And when she comes, you’ll be safe, and whatever I have to deal with, I’ll deal with. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Atsuko closed her eyes and leaned her head back. For a moment, it almost looked like she had dozed off, but then she said, in a very quiet voice, “I’m sorry for asking the question.”

“What?”

“When I asked the Silver Sentry how the phantom thief hunt was going. I already knew she wasn’t hunting you – do you think I could be friends with someone she _would_ hunt down? I was just being obliging, because you asked, and I wasn’t thinking. I never _think_. I never should have asked her!”

“I dunno. Some good came of it. I saw on Snapgram this morning that someone did a graffiti tag of me on some rich asshole’s house, so that was pretty cool.”

“Oh, well, then it’s all worth it,” Atsuko said sarcastically. “But you should know. It’s not that she thinks you’re insignificant. It’s that she thinks the things you do aren’t bad enough to go after you for. I’m not even sure she thinks they’re bad at all!”

“Well, that just changed,” Amanda said, and chuckled awkwardly. “Guess I took her advice about trying harder, huh?”

“She’s also an arrogant fathead sometimes, and says stupid things like that in interviews because she thinks she can cow you guys.” Atsuko waved a hand without looking up. “Villains or hooligans or whoever. I’ve scolded her about it, but she can’t help herself.”

“What? You’ve scolded the Silver Sentry?”

“We’re good friends.” Atsuko cracked one eye open. “You really messed up. The only time she ever really scared me was when Frankenstar took me hostage and…”

“Hello, there!” a bright voice called from below.

Amanda flash-stepped to the rail and glared down onto the warehouse’s broad, dingy floor. Standing squarely in the middle and waving up to them was Wangari Muthiga, the head editor of the Lunopolis News Network. A luminary of the city was here, alone, in the middle of the night, in a freshly pressed navy blue suit and shades, dark hair pulled into an updo that left the bleached ends of her curls tumbling over one eye. Santa Claus would have been less incongruous.

“What do _you_ want?”

“I’m here to pick up my reporter, of course!”

Amanda hopped the rail, fell twenty feet, and then flashed the last five to shed their momentum. They made a show of casually dusting off their burgundy suitcoat and pushing their domino mask up their nose. It was a cool gentleperson thief outfit, especially with the tails, but Amanda felt a little silly staring down a woman in a proper suit. “Sorry,” they said. “Not happening. I need her.”

“So do I,” Muthiga said. “And I don’t want her to be around for what’s coming. That puts us at an impasse, doesn’t it? I’ve never done this sort of thing before – do we fight now?”

“No!” Atsuko wailed from above, and started running for the mezzanine’s spiral stairs. “Nononono!”

“I’m not gonna hit a lady in glasses,” Amanda said dismissively.

“Okay,” Muthiga replied, and took them off.

Amanda screamed and fell back, then crabbed away from her, completely forgetting that they could teleport. “Wh-what are you?”

Muthiga had perfectly ordinary eyes, deep brown with faint rings of gold around the pupils, but meeting them had given Amanda the sense that they were staring into a bottomless pit, or perhaps into the sky. Falling or flying. Lost. “What do you mean? I’m just a person with a weird talent, like you.”

“Are you kidding? Y-you—your eyes—!” Amanda flashed back to their feet and almost screamed again when Atsuko finally made it to their side and caught their arm. “Watch it, Kagari!”

“Don’t worry, Phantom Thief,” Muthiga said, donning her shades. “I’m not going to hurt you. There’s no need, especially now that there’s two of you in there, remembering this. I don’t want to traumatize _both_ of you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Amanda glanced to Atsuko, who spread her hands helplessly.

“I’m not really sure,” Muthiga admitted. “This is new to me, too! It’s like your spirit is reaching right out of the world on a beam of light. I haven’t seen anything like this since the Sandpiper was last in this dimension.”

Amanda boggled. “Wait a second, the Sandpiper is _actually_ from another dimension? I thought that was just a bit!”

Muthiga seemed genuinely delighted to say, “I have no idea.”

Amanda sagged in place. “Come _on._ ”

“She gets like this sometimes,” Atsuko said apologetically. “Comes from seeing too many planes of being at once.”

“Whatever, fine,” Amanda groaned. After a moment, they straightened and cocked their head. “…why does someone like _you_ run a newspaper, anyway? Isn’t there cosmic stuff you should be doing, or like, being a superhero or something?”

“The newspaper is the best way to share my visions without freaking everyone out,” Muthiga said. “And it gives me rules to follow, so I don’t show… too much. I’d be a terrible superhero anyway. I don’t even know how to throw a punch!”

“Do you really want to say that with a supervillain standing four feet from you?”

“Oh, you think you’re a villain?”

Atsuko and Amanda looked at each other.

“We should go,” Muthiga said. “Your date’s about to start, Phantom Thief. It’s going to get dangerous in here. Atsuko, can you come with me?”

“Go on,” Amanda insisted. “I’ll bet the Silver Sentry doesn’t want you to see this, either.”

Atsuko glowered between them, but then walked to Muthiga’s side. “You’d better sort this out _tonight_ , Amanda,” she said. Amanda had never seen her look so serious. “Because I’m done with it.”

“Oh, it’ll be sorted,” Amanda said, bristling at her tone despite themself. “So get ready to report on it!”

Watching the others go, Amanda realized that they were now alone with their thoughts, which was nowhere they liked to be. Here, at the end of their reckless and stupid plan, they were about to confront a superhero they’d adored and loathed from afar for years – and they’d given her every reason to hate them. Was this anticipation or fear?

Amanda whirled on their heel as the double doors at the back of the warehouse rattled softly. Four tendrils of liquid metal had slipped between them and spread out like vines growing over an invisible trellis, uncoiling and spreading into a beautiful pattern… and then they _slammed_ back against the doors, ripping them away with an awful screech. Amanda was left staring into the utter darkness beyond.

Fear. It was definitely fear.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Amanda snapped awake in a cold sweat, short of breath. She slowly reached up and rubbed her eyes, pressing a headache away. _Two of me remembering, huh?_ The thought of someone in another dimension, in the _past,_ somehow seeing her sent chills down her spine. She wondered if she’d remember more if she went back to sleep.

Maybe she didn’t want to.

As Amanda’s vision cleared, she saw a deep blue silhouette hanging over her, resolving into Barbara as though she were emerging from mist. Her hair spread in a black flower, and her eyes gleamed steadily through the watery depths between them. She couldn’t have been more obviously a spooky drowned ghost.

Still half-asleep, it didn’t even occur to Amanda to be alarmed. “What do you want, Barbara?”

“Aw,” Barbara said. “No jump? Okay, I’ve just got a quick update for you. Hannah and Lotte are going up the tower with the shady new professor, and we think she’s messing with us, and me and Sucy can’t go near the Sorcerer’s Stone, so if anyone’s gonna go flying to the rescue…”

“It’ll be me, huh?” Amanda said. “What about Diana?”

“Off on a Jasminka hunt. She’s got a great big Gandalf staff Constanze made for her.”

Amanda reached up to brush Barbara aside, then sat up. Barbara landed alongside the bed on her feet and dusted her skirt out. They looked at each other for a few awkward moments.

“You can just turn up wherever now?” Amanda asked, pulling a face.

“I haven’t worked it all out yet, but walls aren’t a problem.”

“Ugh. And I thought you were a pain before.”

“Right? Don’t worry, I’m not going to be a creep.”

“You’re just going to hover over me while I sleep, got it.”

Barbara chuckled. “That’s all I had to say, anyway. Wait, there was one other…” she trailed off as Amanda held up a finger.

“Before I forget.”

“Yeah?”

“Grit your teeth,” Amanda commanded, standing, then hauled off and punched her in the face. She gave it about 60%, which was still enough to knock Barbara sprawling, turning over in the air once before bouncing across Jasna’s plush carpet and hitting the wall. Amanda stepped back, casually wringing her hand. “You alright? Didn’t break anything, did I?”

“What the hell?” Barbara sounded more confused than hurt. She immediately sat up, unfazed.

“That was for your little Ghostbusters crack,” Amanda explained calmly. “Don’t make fun of Jasna. She’s always smiling, but she’s really sensitive, and jokes like that hurt her feelings.”

“My little what?”

“You compared her to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man back when Akko was telling us about the ritual! Fat jokes make you an asshole anyway, but _especially_ when it’s Jasminka! What did she ever do to you, be a little chubby where you could see her? God, I kinda want to pop you again, now!”

Barbara floated to her feet. “Actually, could you? I want to test something.”

A beat passed, filled by the pummeling rain.

“Well, not now,” Amanda said, relaxing. “You went and made it weird.”

“Fine, then. If you’re done yelling at me, can you give me Diana’s notes for the ritual? Wangari thinks she has a lead on it.”

“You’re busy all of a sudden,” Amanda observed, sweeping the papers from her desk and handing them over in an untidy wad. “Something lit a fire under your ass, or what?”

“It just feels good!” Barbara replied. “Being useful for once, I mean. It’s like everything is brighter and easier! And all it took was turning half-ghost – maybe death becomes me.”

“See? You can make old movie references without being a jerk.”

“Hannah would have _hated_ that one,” Barbara said. “If I’m being sensitive for your friend, then you shouldn’t make any cracks about me being a ghost or dead to her. Deal? Anyway, just be ready in case one of those two idiots screams for help. I’ll come and yell ‘boo.’”

Amanda sat back down on her bed. “Sounds like a real pain. But I’ll bet Meridies has some pretty badass security, so it might be fun? So, sure, whatever, give me a call.” She stretched out and rolled towards the wall. “Now get out of here. I’ve got a healing spell to sleep off!”

* * *

Barbara stood at Amanda’s bedside for a few seconds, wondering whether to spook her again, but the response would be too predictable to be any fun. She could test out some more punches later. It had felt like taking a hit in a dream – the _idea_ of pain, vanishing before she’d even hit the ground. Was the lack of sensation a normal part of being a ghost, or was it because she’d just been melted down and put back together? And even that had faded instantly – one moment she was dissolving into a blob of magma-soaked agony, the next she was fresh as a flower and could barely remember hurting.

 _This is all like a dream isn’t it?_ Barbara mused, looking down at her hands. They were solid enough now. _Checked up on Hannah, called up our rescue crew, got the notes for Wangari… was there anything else? Oh, right! The vampire!_ She hopped into the wall, which broke around her like a waterfall and admitted her into the cool, dark sea between spaces. Gentle shafts of greenish light cut down from who-knows-where as she swam through Luna Nova, or perhaps _alongside_ it.

Barbara stopped and turned, hair billowing as she looked up to the light. A thick green haze oozed through the darkness above, deep emerald shading into pale mint towards the center in a shape like the sun struggling through thick clouds. There was no mistake: she’d been navigating by the light of the Sorcerer’s Stone all this time. _I got too close and it was killing me… but maybe I do need it?_

A distant blue flicker caught her attention and Barbara whipped about, but it was gone before her eyes could focus. _Am I alone here?_ She didn’t know which answer would be scarier. Scanning the “water” more carefully, she saw a dim reddish light below, spreading from… something that should have terrified her, to be honest. It looked like a gigantic manta ray rippling gracefully through the gloom, but somehow it also seemed familiar. In fact…

 _Well, speak of the devil!_ Barbara didn’t give herself a moment to reconsider, but kicked after the enormous creature and made a grab for it.

As soon as she touched its silky skin, a pair of hands seized Barbara’s wrists and spun her through the water into the open air to slam against solid wood. Suddenly, Sucy was pinning her to the wall in a dimly lit corridor on the second floor of Luna Nova, shockingly bright after the dark sea. Barbara was too stunned to react, which was probably a good thing; this wasn’t the time for a stupid insult.

Sucy was utterly terrifying, eyes flaming, fangs bared, every feature etched out in harsh light and shadow – but then she subsided in confusion and let her arms drop. Her bangs fell over her face and her shadows softened. “What was _that?_ ” she asked.

“I could ask the same thing,” Barbara replied, trying to decide if she was still scared. _Not really._

“I thought nobody could touch me there.”

“Really? Where did I grab you?”

“No – I meant—” Sucy growled. “I meant in the shadows. Creep.”

“Glass houses, Ghoulsy!” Barbara drifted from the wall to get some space. “I had two things I wanted to – three things, I mean, three things I wanted to tell you.”

Sucy cracked her neck. “Hurry up, then.”

“First, the Sorcerer’s Stone kills me, too. Thought you’d be interested to hear that.”

“That does improve my day, yeah.”

Barbara snorted. “Second, there’s something else in the dark with us, I think. I saw a weird blue flash, not mine, way out there. Maybe in the woods, somewhere.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“You’d better! I was able to sneak right up on you! Third: have you met our new Wangari yet? I really think you’ll have something to bond over!”

“Like what?”

“Just trust me! It’ll be a great time!”

Sucy gave her a long, suspicious look, then walked back into the shadows and out of the conversation. Barbara wasn’t sure how to read that. After a moment of concern, she shrugged and curled up in her own shadow for a quick nap.


	8. The Tower's Shadow

_Memory – The World of Fairy Smoke_

A wave of heat came with the predawn light and the eastern horizon became a wall of orange fire. Metal shutters rang and clattered up and down the streets as they swiftly emptied out. Barkers paced in front of public shelters, calling out to anyone who needed a place to stay. Mounted above the city on a ring of pillars, its dome would be proof against the day’s deadly light, but the best answer for its heat – and the “visitors” it could bring – was to head underground. Soon, the people of Tor’s Shade would be safe from the Sun’s hatred for another day.

Perched atop a streetlight, Fairy Smoke contemplated diving into the dark. From this high vantage she could see hundreds of hearts gleaming in a sea beneath her, the bloody lines of their bonds streaking between them in a dizzying dance as they sank deeper and deeper into the shelters. Even after all these years, it was still a little scary… but it was home. Besides, if this really was a monstrous web, then _she_ was the spider.

The last few stragglers raced back and forth below, studiously ignoring the ominous blob of shadow hanging over them. The heat grew and translucent panes in the armored dome overhead started to glow ominously. It would be foolish for a human to stay out much longer, and madness for a creature like Smoke.

Curiosity held her. Squinting into the distance, she could see a heart _beyond_ the city limits, slowly trudging nearer. It was the center of a thick web of bonds, more than she’d ever seen on a single human, but they faded into nothing a few feet out. Smoke had a strong sense that they weren’t just disappearing, but she had no idea where they could be going. The effect of all those stunted lines wheeling about the traveler was like a scuttling insect, or perhaps a rolling Koosh ball. She couldn’t wait to meet whoever-it-was and find out what was going on with them.

And, of course, some of Smoke’s people resented their evolution from predators to protectors and might enjoy the chance to pounce on a human nobody would miss. Her presence would dissuade them, if they were smart.

“Umm, hello?” a timid voice called from below.

Smoke’s eyes swung down, blazing out of her shade and startling a little shriek out of the girl as she stumbled back, huge cloud of blonde hair bouncing along with her. Ah, a frequent pest, but not one that Smoke especially disliked. “What do you want, Annabelle?” she asked idly. “You should be in a shelter.”

“Sh-shouldn’t you?”

That was a good point. Even over the horizon and through her shade, Smoke could feel the Sun’s attention prickling angrily on her neck and shoulders. No need to admit it, though. She hopped down in a slow glide and landed before Annabelle. The girl relaxed a little in the relative cool as her shade pooled around them. “Well?”

“I—I think I found out who’s Calling for me,” Annabelle said. “I finally recognized the voice! They really are Calling, and if I go to them… maybe they just want my blood, but maybe I can become one of you!”

“Sure, congratulations,” Fairy Smoke said. “So why are you coming to me?”

“Because I’m scared.”

Smoke couldn’t see the lines from her own heart; none of her people could. She wondered if there would be one between the two of them, and what it would look like. “Well, what do you expect me to…?” she started, then sighed. “Okay, fine. When you’re ready to meet them, I’ll come with you. _Oof._ ” She just let the hug happen to her, which seemed to be all Annabelle wanted. “Now get to shelter, will you? Or you won’t become anything but a strip of bacon!”

“Thank you!” Annabelle called over her shoulder as she sprinted off.

Smoke glanced to the eastern sky and grimaced at its horrifying shade of atomic yellow. That mysterious traveler was cutting it close. She vaulted into the shadows and swam for the edge of town, arriving at a cul de sac where squat, bunker-like houses ran up against the tangled woods beyond the city limits. “Hurry up,” she muttered, gliding out past the back yard of the outermost house and emerging onto the surface.

And as though she were listening, the traveler arrived. She looked disappointingly ordinary, at least at first – a tall, slender woman in light body armor and a rainbow-striped poncho, with a purple bandana tied around a close-cropped, bleached afro. No pack, oddly. Nothing about her suggested where she might have come from, or how she could have survived the blasted wilderness between towns. But as Smoke watched her approach, she got a disorienting electric feeling – some kind of energy? It definitely wouldn’t be safe to drink her blood. 

“Oh!” The traveler jolted when she noticed Fairy Smoke, but not out of any particular fear. Did she not know what she was dealing with? “Hello, there!”

“Hey,” Smoke replied. “Come on, get in my shade.”

The traveler stared in confusion for a moment, then came forward and stepped into Smoke’s aura of darkness. Not many humans were so brave, or foolish. (Was she human?) “Oh, that’s nice and cool. Thanks! You can call me the Sandpiper, and I came…”

“Fairy Smoke. Charmed.” Smoke wasn’t in the mood for a lengthy introduction anymore. Daylight was getting closer, and she could sate her curiosity later. “We need to get you underground right now.”

“Wait,” the Sandpiper said. “I came with two friends. I need to find them.”

“Look, if they’re not already in shelter,” Smoke started impatiently, then blinked at the web of lines spreading from the Sandpiper. She hadn’t been able to make them out from a distance, but there were indeed two bonds that didn’t fade away, instead stretching deeper into the city. Squinting into the increasingly painful light, she could _just_ make out the bond between the hearts at the other ends. More weirdos? How _interesting._ “Wait a second. These two friends of yours – how do they feel about each other?”

“ _That’s_ a question. Wait, can you see where they – ?” Her face dropped as a fresh wave of heat and light fell over them from the west, casting her shadow into the city. She didn’t look scared so much as tired. “Oh no. The cat found me again.”

Smoke was equally disgusted and impressed. “Looks like you disturbed one of His victims out there. I’m amazed you lived this long.”

The “cat” was about 7 feet tall at the shoulder, slinking through the tangled wood like a panther made of golden fire. Chunks of metal and concrete floated in its mass like bones, and an impossibly preserved human skull grinned from between its blazing eyes. It left small, guttering fires in its footsteps, but somehow didn’t set the whole forest ablaze with its presence; all its heat and malice were focused squarely on the Sandpiper. It stopped right at the city limit watched them, tail slowly lashing back and forth.

“You sound pretty calm,” the Sandpiper said wearily, turning. “Can we handle this guy?”

“I really want to know how you lasted ten minutes with one of these stalking you,” Smoke replied. “But yeah, _I_ can handle it. _You’re_ getting to a shelter.”

“I led it here. I should help drive it off.”

“Drive it off?” Smoke snickered. “I’m going to snuff it out. The poor thing deserves some rest.”

The Sandpiper gave her a perturbed look. “What the hell kind of a world is this?”

Fairy Smoke smirked back. “What the hell kind of a question is that?”

The monster arced through the air like the stream from a hose and splashed down between them as they dove to either side, hungrily spreading across the ground as dozens of grasping paws. The cat shape reared out of the puddle with two heads, focusing on each of them. Except for the soft crackle of its flames, it was silent.

The Sandpiper brandished a forked iron wand. Purple light flared between its prongs and the cat recoiled. “You still like that?” the Sandpiper taunted, stalking forward. “C’mon, it’s just a multitool! Totally harmless!”

Fairy Smoke cringed a little herself. Whatever that “multitool” was, it was casting its weird light into the darkness she swam through, burning her in places she’d never realized she had. “Hey!” she called, holding up a hand to shield her face. “Push it this way!”

Her new friend complied. The monster’s flames met Smoke’s shade and faltered, well short of their normal strength. It would be easy pickings for an experienced hunter. Smoke stepped forward and extended her hand, shade congealing around her arm in solid black armor with wicked talons, plunging into the panther’s body and closing around the skull.

The Sandpiper yelped as its tail lashed across her shoulders. She tumbled away and threw her flaming poncho off, sweeping her multitool as the poncho’s fire tried to jump back onto her. Unfortunately, that took her attention away from the monster proper, and its fire roared back to full power while Smoke was still shoulder deep in it.

She kept her grip on the skull, though, so when she screamed and hauled back, it came with her. The moment it broke the surface, the flames winked out and the random junk that made up the monster’s bones crashed to the ground. Fairy Smoke collapsed, folding to keep the skull from hitting the ground. Now that it wasn’t a demon anymore, she wanted to be respectful.

“Ugh.” Smoke said, and gently set the skull aside. Next, she dipped the smoldering, skeletal ruin of her arm into the shadows and pulled out a whole, healthy limb. Her body was starting to smolder more generally; sunrise was only minutes away. “Are you okay, Birdy? We have to move.”

The Sandpiper was not. Golden lines spread beneath her skin, racing up her arms and across on her cheeks. “No!” she cried, slapping at her hands frantically. “No, you stupid thing! I’m safe now! Abort, abort! I can’t leave them behind! I—!”

* * *

_Luna Nova_

“I’m… gonna stop you there,” Wangari said, and turned off the recorder. Her eyes were wide, and her breath was harsh. “I think I need to take a break.”

“Aw, I was just getting to the best part,” Sucy said with a lazy grin. “Don’t you want to hear some of the curses I learned from her before she…?”

“I remember,” Wangari cut in. “I was there. That was me. Me Bar.”

Sucy’s face went blank.

“I jump between worlds. In the – in the ritual, I wanted to be someone who could see them all, and then I was!” Wangari’s tone grew manic. “But I’d just lost Jo and Kim and then I – and I _left them._ I dragged them through a hundred worlds, put them in danger a thousand times, and then I just _ditched_ them in a horrible world full of weird sun monsters and _motherloving vampires!_ N-no offense.”

“None taken,” Sucy replied, grateful that she couldn’t blush. She really appreciated being ranked above the sun monsters. “I was just telling that story because I thought it was another you. You should’ve told me you knew the ending!”

“I didn’t even remember all of that when you started!” Wangari cried. “But what you saw – that was the emergency escape system of my Dimension Drive. It sensed I was in danger and just yanked me home without even asking! I think that must be where I was when the ritual caught me, just lying there on a hill, not knowing if my friends were okay and without the strength to get back. Huh. No _wonder_ I wanted to be someone else for a while.”

“If it’s any consolation, you stuck around a lot longer than you should’ve,” Sucy said, then added after a moment’s consideration, “Which was really stupid. I guess you did help, though.”

“But what can I do now? I don’t know if I can jump dimensions with my body like this, and I wouldn’t know the way to your world from here. I-I should be helping everyone else, but I just can’t stop worrying about my Jo and Kim! How can I…?”

“Hey, dummy,” Sucy said tenderly, laying a hand on Wangari’s shoulder. “I was there, too, remember? Do you think I’d see someone like you and not look into what you said? You can just ask me what happened to them.”

Wangari’s golden eyes shot up and Sucy recoiled as though scorched by sunlight. She seized Sucy’s lapels and pulled her halfway across the table, drawing a deep breath as though to speak, but then she just let it out in a rush. Her expression quivered between desperate hope and fury.

“They’re fine,” Sucy said quickly. “They’re fine! Jeez! They’re safe!”

Wangari just stared at her, panting.

“You gonna let me go?” Sucy asked.

She did, and they both collapsed back.

Sucy brushed off her cloak. “How long were you stewing in that?”

“Hours,” Wangari admitted. “I didn’t remember what it was, but right from the moment I woke up, I knew I’d done something bad to my – to Me Bar’s Joanna and Kimberly. I was trying to distract myself with the interviews, but everything I was hearing was _horrible_ , so it wasn’t helping.”

“And all it took was one question,” Sucy said. It was hard to tell from her deadpan tone, but she might have been gloating. “Glad I could clear that up for you.”

“Shut up,” Wangari said, then warmed. “And thanks, also.”

“Sure.”

“Where did they end up?” Wangari asked, rocking forward, flipping back to anxiety. “Are they happy? How long has it been?”

“I don’t know how long it’s been,” Sucy admitted. “But like I told you, they’re fine, probably. The city put them up in an apartment. I don’t remember details for Kimberly, but she got a job with the museum. And Joanna, erm, signed on with me as an assistant.”

“Oh! She did? She’s great, isn’t she?”

With an act of will, Sucy resisted licking her lips. “Yup.” Noticing Wangari’s suspicious look, she hurriedly added, “Well, you’re not melting down anymore. Back to the interview?”

Wangari let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. There’s a lot I can do to help everyone, now that I remember more, but first I have to go find Jo and Kim – I mean _our_ Jo and Kim – and cry all over them for a little bit. You know how it is.”

Sucy shrugged. “Not really.”

“Like how Akko gets all weepy and clingy sometimes?”

“Oh, like that,” Sucy said. “Gross.”

“You’re terrible!” Wangari finally smiled. “Why do I like you so much?”

“I’m charming.”

“Ha!” Wangari gathered her equipment in a few practiced sweeps of her slender arms, then rushed off. 

Sucy set her hands on the table to rise, but paused when a dark shape dropped down from the ceiling and landed before her with a _plunk._ Barbara bobbed to the surface of the table and then pushed herself back into the chair across from Sucy. Nobody else in the vestibule seemed to notice at all.

“That’s really creepy,” Sucy observed.

“Isn’t it great?” Barbara leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “And what did I tell you about glass houses?”

“At least I didn’t set you on fire.”

“You healed right up. So, how’d it go?”

Sucy sighed irritably. “You were right. Looks like we knew each other. That was _exhausting_ – all those feelings. I’m no good with that stuff.”

“Yeah, and how do you think I felt? But it sounds like you handled it. How about that, we did good!”

“Maybe so,” Sucy said. “What now?”

“I came to give her Diana’s notes from the ritual, but it looks like I was too slow. I’ll just wait ‘til she’s done crying. I wanted to spy on the new professor, but I can’t deal with the Stone thing. Maybe I should scout out a good place to do our ritual in private? And what do you think you’ll do?”

“Why are you being so…” Sucy waved aimlessly. “…right now?”

“Everyone is asking that! Is it really so weird that I’m being proactive?”

“Yes,” Sucy said bluntly.

Barbara looked wounded, but the double doors burst open before she could reply. Diana stalked out of the rainy gloom, grim-faced and soaked through. She noticed Sucy and Barbara halfway across the room, took a jerky, hesitant step along her original course, then veered off and slouched heavily into a chair between them. “Good evening.”

“Hey,” Sucy said.

“Did you find her?” Barbara asked.

“Jasminka wouldn’t come back with me, but she gave me this.” Without opening her eyes, Diana snatched her hand away from Barbara’s playful swipe at the crystal. “We’re to break it if we need her in an emergency, or to close out our ritual.”

“Speaking of, I have your notes,” Barbara offered. “I was gonna pass them to Wangari, but do you want them back?”

Diana looked down at the power converter. “I’d best not. Constanze advised me to avoid strenuous activity to conserve power. That includes _mental_ activity, unfortunately. For the time being, I will be avoiding deep thought.”

“Like Akko,” Sucy and Barbara said in unison. “Jinx!” Barbara added. “Maybe later,” Sucy replied.

Diana’s eyebrow twitched.

“You’d think we’d stick together,” Barbara observed. “But now we’ve got Wangari running off to her coven, and the adventurers napping, and Diana ditching us to be the head of her House, and Constanze and Jasminka hiding away, and Lotte and Hannah going up to Croix’s lab like a couple of idiots…”

Diana jolted. “I’m sorry, what was that third—?”

“Lotte went up to Meridies’s lab?” Sucy whirled on Barbara, the glow of her left eye burning through her bangs. 

“And Hannah, yeah.”

“ _Why?_ ” Sucy snapped. “Didn’t we all agree she’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know about yours, but Hannah wants to investigate the scary new professor. If you ask me, she’s getting carried away with the detective thing.” Barbara smiled fondly. “She’s usually pretty smart, but she’s so _stubborn_ when she gets a stupid idea in her head _._ ”

“And you can talk Lotte into anything!” Sucy growled. Her voice was furious, but when she turned her gaze towards the New Moon Tower, they could see fear in her expression. “Especially if you bully her. What is she _thinking?_ ”

“It’s unlikely that Meridies would harm a student,” Diana put in. “Even if she means us ill, her position in the school is precarious and her plans require access to Luna Nova’s resources. Also, to my knowledge, she doesn’t specialize in amnesia magic or anything else that would help her to cover such a crime up.”

“Unlikely isn’t good enough.” Sucy’s voice had lost its heat, replaced by something the others had never heard in it before.

“Wait, hey, Sucy, you know what the Stone does to us. You’re not _actually_ going back up there, are…?” Barbara started, reaching out, then closed her hand into an awkward fist as Sucy dove into the shadows beneath the table and vanished. “Man! That _is_ creepy!”

* * *

Diana’s next stop was her room to change into some warm, dry clothes, down yet another glass of water, and freshen up. She tapped the booster behind her ear to contact Constanze, but didn’t even get the jamming. Maybe the workshop radios were off? _Bother. I suppose I’ll have to report in person, then._

She let herself into Green Team’s room, tiptoed past a snoring Amanda, and tapped Conz’s bed with a foot. The moment she hit the bottom of the chute, Constanze rushed up to her. Her expression was businesslike, but every biometric indicator screamed with tension and anxiety. 

Diana decided to set her at ease by getting right to business.

“Jasminka’s safe, but doesn’t want to return just yet. She’s making a camp to the north, along with a Forest Ranger Goblin. She gave me this.” Diana held up the crystal. “We can break it to summon her. Would you like to keep…?”

Constanze quickly shook her head and held up her hands.

“I’ll hold on to it, then. Jasminka warned me that seeing us again will hurt her, so we will need to be certain of the need.” Diana slipped the crystal into her breast pocket. “Also, she had a message for you: she says that she forgives you, and that you would understand.”

Constanze deflated and let out a long sigh.

Diana almost regretted continuing. “I find that I’m having a harder time doing so, however.”

Green eyes rose to meet hers and Constanze opened her mouth to speak, struggled for a moment, then sagged again. With a snap of her fingers, she summoned a stanbot with her headset and pressed it to her head without properly donning it. “DID YOU MEET THE DEMON?” the stanbot blurted at her side, then clapped its hands over its snout in apparent surprise.

“I did,” Diana said.

Constanze staggered back a step and fell into her chair. “IMPOSSIBLE,” the stanbot insisted. “JASNA IS TOO STRONG.”

“It seems that Jasminka Bar is not,” Diana said. “You’ve just sent me into a confrontation with a Demon of Wrath, without even a warning. Do you understand what that creature could have done to me? To both Dianas?”

“YOU KNEW WHAT THE ROD DETECTED.”

“I only suspected. Why on Earth would I seriously think a fellow student has a _demon_ sealed in her body?”

“MS. CONSTANZE IS—” the stanbot started, but Conz took the headset away and put a hand on the little robot’s head. Another trotted up with her whiteboard and she started writing furiously. When she held it out, Diana was surprised to see tears glistening in otherwise flat eyes.

_I’M SORRY. Keeping her secret is the only thing Jasna ever asked me to do. How could I say it?_

Diana lowered the board, at a loss. Soft clouds of anger still roiled in her chest, but she could understand the weight a friend’s secret… especially one that could result in them being thrown from Luna Nova, or even killed. “If I’m going to work with you in the future – and I’d like to – I need to be able to trust you.” She took a steadying breath and touched the power converter. “Right now, my life is in your hands in a way I’ve never experienced before. It’s… a bit frightening. Can I trust you?”

Constanze took the board back and fretted over it for a few seconds, then stepped forward, clapped her shoulder, and gave her a firm nod.

“Understood,” Diana said. Her heart was still a boiling cauldron, distant and muted; it would probably be a long time before she worked out exactly how she felt in that moment. “Thank you.”

 _Are you shivering?_ Constanze wrote.

“Yes. It seems that this body’s thermal regulation system uses a lot of power.” Diana cocked her head. “You should be cold, as well. Is this really a comfortable place for you to work?”

Constanze shrugged, then pointed to a stack of blankets next to her pallet in the corner of the room, spreading the other hand in a welcoming gesture. Diana’s first thought was to refuse and charge off to the next task, but… now that she’d found Jasminka and Wangari had taken up designing the counter ritual, she didn’t really have one.

Never mind her life in Conz’s hands – _that_ was terrifying.

Thankfully, it didn’t show. “Good idea,” Diana said evenly, then crossed to the pallet, wrapped herself in a blanket, and sat down. Relax, slow down, let the blanket hold in heat… _There. Net power gain. Just rest, and you’ll be ready when the others need you._

Constanze gave her a satisfied nod, then resumed bustling around the workshop. Even with her eyes closed, Diana’s sensors were able to follow Conz as she worked with the crystal samples Amanda and Akko had brought up. She had quite an impressive array of lab equipment down here, far beyond Diana Prime’s knowledge of alchemy or engineering. The computers shouldn’t have been able to work at all in Luna Nova’s magical field.

“Diana Bar was designed for this kind of work,” Diana said, after a time. “Would you like me to see if I can—?”

Constanze held up a hand and shook her head, then smoothed her hand over the air. _Rest._

“Very well.” Diana said, both relieved and disappointed. She drew her knees up, lowered her chin, and did her best to. Of course, as always, her mind immediately filled with plans and worries. Why had Hannah and Lotte gone up to the lab? Would Wangari need help with the circle? Were Amanda or Akko hurt from their expedition? Would Jasminka come when the crystal broke? Was Barbara really sore about the fact that she’d have to leave Luna Nova soon? As Diana’s mind kept racing, it got easier and easier, draining less of her power, even as she started to fret about multiple topics in parallel.

Constanze cleared her throat loudly and Diana’s eyes snapped open. All over the workshop, the monitors were displaying diagrams of the tower, spell circles, contingency tables – her thoughts, splayed over a whole workshop’s worth of computers. She’d been driving them like a team of sled dogs for the past ten minutes.

“Well, now,” Diana said. “How interesting.”

* * *

Professor Meridies’s lab took up a full eight floors of the New Moon Tower, just shy of its peak. A massive empty space ran up the center of the tower, ringed by balconies on every floor, each with at least a dozen rooms behind metallic, keycard-locked doors. The mix of futuristic and ancient styles was bizarre, and the idea that all of this was one woman’s lab was comical, but at least the sorcery units buzzing this way and that gave it a lively ambiance. Something was suspended on steel cables far above their heads, draped in a maroon tarp that stirred heavily in the units’ wake.

 _This plan was very, very dumb,_ Hannah realized, taking it all in with huge eyes. Her plan had been to cooperate with Croix, gather intelligence, and slip away. But what was there to find in this situation? How could she know what to look for? If she uncovered some shady scheme, what could she even do about it? _I’ll just have to try and stay safe. And look out for Jansson, I guess._

“I was going to give you girls the grand tour,” Croix said. “But I’m guessing you’re in a hurry to see what I can do to help you, so we can just head up to examination room 12.”

Lotte was staring up at the tarp-covered mass overhead, gripping the rail with quivering hands.

“But on second thought, if you’re curious…” Croix offered, lightly elbowing her.

“N-no!” Lotte cried, then shook her head rapidly. “I mean, I am, a little. It feels,” her voice faltered oddly, dropping into her throat. “Strange.”

“Strange how? Don’t worry, Hannah, I won’t let myself get sidetracked for _too_ long.”

Lotte kept staring up at it. “The fairies won’t come up here, will they? I don’t know if a fairy spirit could even form in here. Whatever that is, it’s projecting a feeling of – no, I mean, it’s projecting _no_ feeling. Dead air.”

“Now, I seem to recall that you have a talent for summoning fairy spirits. I’d never considered that this device could have an effect on them. Could you… try and call one, so we can see?”

Lotte turned slowly and fixed Croix with a cold, blank look. “I will not.”

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to torture the poor things. I’m sorry; it was a foolish request.” Croix’s gaze slipped into the distance for a moment. “I suppose it’s easy to lose sight of who you could hurt, when you’ve been working towards a goal for so long.”

Lotte didn’t reply, turning back to the whatever-it-was.

“So, uh, what is that thing?” Hannah asked. “As long as we’re talking about it.”

“Well… oh, it’s so hard to work on things without telling anyone!” Croix turned to them with a crafty look. “Can you two keep a secret?”

Alarms screeched in Hannah’s head. “Wait, is it something we _want_ to know?” she whispered.

“Sorry, Hannah,” Lotte said softly. “I think I need to see. I need to know what it is.”

Hannah sighed. “Sure, fine.”

Croix didn’t seem to mind all the muttering. With a sweep across her tablet, she directed two sorcery units to pull the tarp away, revealing what looked like an enormous black kite shield, perhaps four meters tall. The top surface was uneven, clearly incomplete. Two spherical red stones were set into it like a pair of sinister eyes, and a dully gleaming channel connected them in its angular course around the edges.

“It looks like the…” Lotte started, then cut herself off nervously.

“… _Claiomh Solais,_ ” Hannah finished. “But just the bottom tip.”

Lotte elbowed her and Hannah stepped away, peevishly rubbing her side.

“You’re familiar?” Croix asked, maybe a bit too quickly, then shrugged. “Oh, right, you’re friends with Akko. You probably recognize the design from the imitation Shiny Chariot used in her shows. I always wondered how she thought she could get away with that… anyway, my current project is recreating the _Claiomh Solais_ with modern magic! Say hello to the Noir Rod. It’s just a prototype, but it already has many of the same functions – most importantly, the potential to break the seal on the Grand Triskelion and reawaken magic!”

“Why does it… do that?” Lotte asked uneasily, gesturing to her heart.

“It uses a new system I’ve been developing that draws on people’s emotions and converts them into magical power. I call it Noir Fuel Spirit. Just now I’m testing which emotions yield the most power. Preliminary data suggests joy, which would be difficult, since that’s harder to induce… but anyway, my goal is a system that anyone can use to maintain the flow of magic in the world. I have nothing but respect for the Nine’s magic, but it’s a little fickle, isn’t it?”

“So then when you stopped the fairies’ riot…” Hannah asked. “You were sucking out – wait, aren’t fairies _made_ of emotion and magic and stuff? It’s something like that, right, Lotte?”

Instead of replying, Lotte just went pale.

“I had to be very careful,” Croix said. “Thankfully, my calculations were correct! I don’t know what I would have done if any of them were hurt… or any of you. Needless to say, the rest of the faculty wouldn’t exactly approve of this project, so I’ll need you to keep this under your hats. Much like your ritual, I suppose – we’re thick as thieves now!”

Lotte gave a thin chuckle. Croix didn’t seem to notice how miserable she sounded.

“Shall we?”

As Croix led them towards examination room 12, Hannah fell behind, weighed by dread pouring down her limbs. Everything suddenly made too much sense – if Diana was right about Akko being the one to unlock the Grand Triskelion, and Hannah was right about the fairy riots, they were in the clutches of a witch who planned to turn the world of magic inside out _and_ knew that the bearer of the true _Claiomh Solais_ was involved in this mess. She thought of the photo of Croix and Chariot and almost slapped her forehead. Of course! Why had Diana assumed that Chariot would be working alone? It had taken nine the first time!

 _And did she have anything to do with Chariot’s disappearance?_ Hannah wondered. After learning that Croix had sucked the fairies’ guts out, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. _None of the fairies remembered what happened. One way or another, she’s not gonna let us walk away knowing what happened here!_

Hannah’s hand fell to her wand and she stepped closer to Lotte.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Dame Kagari_

Cavendish Manor was modest by the standards of Starhold nobles, but still looked grand to Dame Kagari. Nestled in the foothills of Starhold’s northern mountains, the two-story house presided over a small compound of clinics, labs, and shelters, dotted with towering pine trees and strewn with stands of hyacinth and daffodils. The newly ascended Lady Cavendish was expected to spend most of her time in the capital these days, but whenever she could, she’d find her way out here to research and heal alongside her ever-growing staff.

Kagari strode unchallenged through an open gate in a wrought iron fence that was more a place for roses to grow than a defense. True to their master, the grounds presented both a warm welcome and an arrogant challenge. Anyone could come and experience the Lady’s sorcery; patients would find paths to long and healthy lives, and raiders would find theirs cut very short.

Instead of a wave of deadly sorcery, Kagari was intercepted by two attendants (Mary and Blair, if she remembered right), who hustled her into one of the guest houses to wash up, stow her gear, and change into proper visiting-your-lady clothes. Blair was an expert in handling weapons and armor; Kagari watched her like a hawk, but found nothing to complain about. Next, they stuffed her into a long gown that started black around the bust, then faded through maroon to a soft pattern of reds, oranges, and yellows at the skirt’s hem.

“We’re knocking off for the night,” Blair said.

“The lady’s that-a-way,” Mary added, waving towards the manor proper. “Have fun!”

Kagari watched them go with a bemused smile. Much like their lady, the staff at Cavendish estates didn’t seem to worry much about their station. Trotting across the grounds, she felt a little ridiculous with her broad shoulders and muscular arms poking out of a shimmering gown, but the way it swished around her was _amazing._ She pushed the manor’s double doors wide just as the sun dipped behind the mountains beyond her.

Lady Cavendish was in the entryway, surrounded by a tight cluster of manor staff, all gesticulating and talking over each other excitedly. Everyone spun when the doors burst open, but only Cavendish recovered herself to respond. “Oh, how dramatic!” she cried, clasping her hands over her heart. “The hero has arrived!”

Kagari came up short; everyone else was staring at her with varying degrees of amusement and annoyance. It certainly looked like she’d crashed in on something important.

“You look gorgeous, my knight,” Cavendish said brightly, taking her arm. This close, she was struck by how tall her lady was, and plump, and just generally _big_ in body and presence, a soft titan in brocaded blue and gold. “The autumnal colors really suit you! I have quite the eye for fashion, wouldn’t you say? Pack it in, girls! We’ll finish planning the patients’ ball tomorrow night.”

Suddenly, Dame Kagari didn’t feel ridiculous after all.

The two ran a gauntlet of knowing looks and stiff bows up to Lady Cavendish’s room on the second floor. There, her lady lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand and opened the glass doors of the balcony, letting the sweet, heavy evening air roll into the room. Their token, the plush ferret, was carefully deposited in its place of honor by her pillow. Dame Kagari took one of the easy chairs and Lady Cavendish stretched out on the bed, kicking her feet in the air and resting her round face on cupped hands.

“So then,” she said. “Tell me of your travels, brave knight!”

Kagari had never thought of herself as storyteller, but her lady’s eager attention transformed her. She sprang to her feet and recounted her journey across the Starhold valley, her battle with the Great Boar of Mt. Rastavan (though she left out the part about getting gored), the cunning trap she used to get the goblins’ chalice back from Sir Blackwell, and the antics of the goblins at their celebration. But it wasn’t all fun and games. She eventually had to explain Sir Blackwell’s revenge, and their confrontation above Goblin Town… and how it ended. 

As the story grew darker, Lady Cavendish sat up and listened somberly. She reached out as though to lay a hand on her knight’s shoulder, but hesitated and withdrew it.

“…and so, I let his retainers take his body back to Abhall,” Kagari finished. “And helped the goblins clean up the oil. Had to… had to rest a little bit after that. They say it gets easier, and I guess it does, but I still…” There wasn’t much left to say. For a few minutes, they sat quietly in the fireplace’s flickering light. “He was awful, but I still didn’t want to do it.”

“It’s sad that you had to,” the Lady said contemplatively. “But perhaps it was for the best.”

Kagari frowned.

“It’s a cruel thing for me to say,” Lady Cavendish agreed. Her grave expression looked strange, like someone Kagari had never seen before. “I don’t know what else you could have done. We may be formally at peace with Abhall, but their king has little control over his knights. His only command to them is to seek glory, and they find it by raiding, conquering, and killing. You could only have stopped Sir Blackwell by dealing with him as an individual, and if he refused to stop attacking the goblins, then…”

“How can you run a kingdom like that?” Kagari protested. “Are they even really knights?”

“Abhall is less a kingdom than a parasite on its neighbors. And their knights?” Lady Cavendish shrugged. “They have the social rank, anyway. That’s enough for most people. They’re hardly up to your standards, of course.”

“Hm,” Kagari said unhappily.

“That…” Cavendish added with a pained smile. “That may have come across as mocking. I apologize.”

Kagari shook her head. “If anything, it makes me glad I’ve kept your regard. When I became your knight it gave me… I’ll call it resolve. You’ve steeled me against my doubts and fear! As long as I have you behind me, as long as I’m protecting your land and your people, I feel like I can face anything.”

Her lady didn’t reply, gazing into the fire with a melancholy expression.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well,” Cavendish said. “It doesn’t seem proper to bring up my neuroses while we’re talking about something that’s troubling you.”

“Honestly, I would rather talk about _anything else in the world._ ” Kagari looked up with intense eyes, then averted them shyly. “Please.”

“Well!” Cavendish said with a soft, uncertain laugh. “In that case.”

And then she fell silent. Kagari waited patiently, watching as the golden light of the Second Moon gave way to the purple of the Fifth outside.

“This feels a silly topic to shift to, but… do you think that anyone can live on a pedestal?” Lady Cavendish finally asked. “Because I can’t.”

“A pedestal?”

“It was one thing when you were just another knight, but now you’re a person I know. _I’m_ a person _you_ know! You can’t keep treating me like some kind of icon. You can’t act like I’m so pure and mighty. Like my mere approval justifies everything done in my name.” Lady Cavendish turned back and spread her hands hopefully. “It diminishes us both! Do you understand?”

“No,” Kagari admitted, eyes wide and serious. “But I’m trying.”

Frustration flashed across the Lady’s face, quickly mastered. That restraint was worrying; it meant she was _really_ upset. “From my perspective, here, safe in this manor, do you know what that story sounds like? To hear you speak of facing down the Boar of Rastavan – and don’t think I didn’t notice your wound, whoever made that lifeblood potion did sloppy work – and know that it’s because of _me?_ How can anyone believe they’re worthy of that kind of devotion? I’d had no idea there was even so much danger to find in Starhold.”

Kagari felt a spike of annoyance, not at her lady, but at Luonnotar. _It’s exactly like you said. You really_ are _always right, aren’t you?_

“And beyond that, ever since my mother stepped down, I’ve felt the pressure of – no, it isn’t even pressure. It’s _cutting into me._ Now that I’m head of the house, the Court is trying to chop pieces off of me so that I fit into the image of a Starhold Lady; everything I do and say has to be perfectly polished, or else they’ll politely pretend that it was and act like I’m crazy when they think I can’t see. No jokes, no odd questions, no esoteric study. They barely tolerate my clinics, if you can believe it! Everything I want to do is something wrong. Maybe I _am_ spoiled…”

“Used to getting your way, maybe,” Kagari suggested. She didn’t share any of the nasty rumors or speculation she’d heard on the road; her lady would be familiar. “But if it’s helping people…”

Cavendish gave her a quick smile. “Even my staff here, lovely as they are, pushes me to fit a strict mold. I can’t show them any vulnerability, because I’m their only shield against the Court. So, when I met you, the wild errant, I suppose I’d hoped that we could… come to a different understanding. If I let you closer, you could see another side of me, and it wouldn’t make me lose my value to you. I could be weak, or silly, or selfish, and that you would still… is something wrong?”

“No,” Kagari said stiffly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s nothing.”

The Lady crossed her arms with an uncharacteristically stern look. (Though, looking back, Akko Prime found the expression _very_ familiar.) “One of the traits of mine that you so love to praise is my kindness. If that kindness doesn’t even allow you to speak up when you’re hurt, then what good is it? Come now, Dame Kagari.”

“But you were just in the middle of…” Kagari started, then faltered under a firm gaze. She was definitely the less stubborn of the two. “Very well.”

Cavendish chuckled dryly. “If we keep tossing this baton back and forth, we’ll resolve one of these, soon enough!”

“I just thought… I thought for _once_ I was doing it right. I thought that I’d finally figured out how to be a proper knight! And now you’re telling me I’m _still_ messing up?”

Now Lady Cavendish looked alarmed. “What? That’s not what…”

“No! No, I’m sorry. I – you can – you talk so cleverly, you can turn my head any which way,” Kagari said. “If you explain, I’ll just… go with it, and forget what I was thinking. There’s more to say and I _need_ to get it out, if I could just – it’s all knotted up. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it!” She bounced a fist off of her leg. “ _Why_ am I such an empty-headed fool?”

Cavendish clearly wanted to argue with that, but only produced a short grunt as she cut herself off. Kagari watched her rebound through five different emotions before settling on a bitter laugh. Her defaulting to laughter was _usually_ charming, but at the moment it was infuriating, especially with that edge to it.

“And now I’m hurting you just by being here! Ugh! I – I need to think. I’m sorry, I just need a moment to…”

Lips quivering with whatever she wanted to say, Lady Cavendish spread a hand towards the room’s balcony.

“Yes, thank you! Sorry, thank you, sorry!”

Kagari burst out onto the balcony, gently shut the doors behind her, then stomped past a set of fabric chairs to sit against the wall right in the corner by the railing, out of sight from within. In the soft violet light of the Fifth Moon, her heart was already slowing down, and her cheeks were cooling. In another few minutes, she’d start to feel foolish, and then turn into an unrecognizable creature, apologetic and confused. Whatever idea she was trying to grasp at would dissolve and leave her trying to smooth things over with no explanation.

 _What does she mean, carving pieces off of her?_ Kagari held out her rough, strong hands. _I’d never want to do something like that – who would? And I’m not just another Starhold knight? What makes me so special?_

Warm wind rushed up out of the valley below Cavendish Manor and stirred her hair, heavy with the scent of pine and the grounds’ flowers. She rested her head back against the siding and let her eyes drift up to the violet bulk of the Fifth Moon. There was a jagged scar up there, a rough four-pointed star. It had appeared when she was ten or so, more than a decade ago, and all manner of strange and sinister stories swirled around it. They said it was home to demons, that this or that foreign kingdom’s weapons had created it, that if you looked at it for too long you would see terrible visions… 

Despite all of that, it always gave Kagari a feeling of peace. It brought her back to a young girl far to the east, looking up unafraid as the adults around her murmured and worried. The reminder of the world’s mysteries hadn’t been a warning to her. It had been a call.

“It’ll be fine,” she decided. “Lady Cavendish is kind, and I’m not stupid. I’ll figure out what I’m trying to say, and she’ll understand.” After a moment, she snickered and added, “But she gets impatient sometimes, so I’d better think of something fast!”

Get to thinking, then.

 _I came to her needing something, and I thought I knew what she’d want in return,_ Kagari mused. _But I was wrong, I guess. Being a hero in her name isn’t what she wants – or not_ just _that. What else could a grubby little errant like me do for someone like_ her? _What do I have to offer?_

Something shifted behind her eyes, a veil lifting. She was still gazing up at the moon, but there was a light in her head, a fire – she was seeing something _else,_ as well. And hearing a voice? Was this a vision from the Fifth Moon’s scar? She steeled herself and focused.

A beam of golden light cutting through crystal mountains. A flying figure, lost. An outflung hand, like hers, but smaller, softer. A plea: _“You just have to be brave!”_ Well, for all the other virtues she struggled with, Dame Kagari never had trouble being brave! She stood and squared her shoulders, keeping her eyes defiantly locked on the scar, ears tuned for that frightened voice. Someone out there, somehow both distant and yet desperately close, needed her help! She reached out, and—

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Akko woke gently. She felt… whole. Like her feet were resting on solid ground for the first time in hours, even though she was lying in bed. She lifted her hand and squinted at it, not trusting the familiar feeling it gave her. Not as strong and rough as the knight’s, nor as slender and clever as witch’s, but still hers. _Did something change?_

She sat up slowly, waiting for the floor to fall out from under her. The strange, tense, sick feeling of her selves pulling against each other was gone, but when was the other shoe going to drop? _Did it happen? Did I eat the other me?_ Akko inspected the room, at first frantically, but then easing into a more contemplative tone. _No, this is my room. I remember moving in. I’m still here!_

And now she remembered the moment she’d been pulled from Starhold, and why she’d agreed to come to Luna Nova. It was almost embarrassing that she’d been diving to the rescue when Akko had started the ritual out of simple, selfish curiosity, but she also felt satisfied, so maybe the knight was okay with it? In a way, it was a reprieve – it gave her a little longer to think about the question vexing her.

 _What was all that about pedestals? Is it really so bad to put someone on a—?_ Her gaze passed over her Shiny Chariot _Magical Festa_ poster at that moment, and the nausea fell back into her belly like a bowling ball. “ _Blurk!_ ” She clamped both hands over her mouth and sprinted for the restroom.

A few minutes later, she spat a mouthful of water into one of the sinks and hunched over it, gasping for breath. So much for peace and wholeness. She still didn’t quite understand how all this worked, but it seemed like her two selves had fit together in a shape she didn’t like. _A knight of Chariot,_ she mused, then retched again and had to recover. _Okay, blech, why is that so terrible? It sounds totally badass!_

“Are you okay?” Sara asked.

The knight’s reflexes flared, but the witch knew she was safe; this time, Akko didn’t even twitch. Her friend Sara was washing her hands at the next sink over, bent like a towering willow tree as always. A concerned eye regarded her through shimmering red hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Akko said, running the back of her hand over her mouth. “Just having a… a day.”

“Aww, hang in there,” Sara said sympathetically. On her way out, she paused and glanced back. “Oh, by the way, how did your ritual thing turn out?”

Akko gave her a confused look. _How does she know about the—?_

“I mean, that you borrowed the scissors for?”

“Oh. Oh!” Akko laughed weakly. It felt like years ago, but she’d talked with Sara about fabric templates and magic circles just yesterday. “Yeah, it was super great. I’ll tell ya all about it when I’m not puking my guts out.”

Sara winced. “W-well, anyway, let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Thanks.” Akko did her best to smile, which might have been more worrying.

When Akko finally staggered back to her room, the door opened into a shadowy nightmare world reeking of ammonia and spoiled beef. Sucy was at her desk, slowly stirring a travel-sized cauldron over a Bunsen burner. “Evening,” she said, without turning.

“What _is_ that?” Akko whined from the doorway. Her stomach roiled but seemed to realize that it didn’t have anything left to give.

“Don’t worry. This is for me.” Sucy set a lid over her cauldron and, in a rare show of consideration, dabbed her wand through the air, letting out puffs of freesia scent that banished the potion’s stench. “Lie down. You look awful.”

Akko took three lurching steps and crashed into bed. “What are you doing now?” she mumbled into her pillow.

“I’m going on a Quest.”

Despite herself, Akko perked up. “What?”

“I’m rescuing a fair maiden from a tower.” Sucy turned back from her desk and a grin full of fangs gleamed in the dark. “You in?”

* * *

The examination room was large and open, but bare – just a few chairs along one wall, an empty desk, and what looked like a state-of-the-art magical MRI table that threw the whole austere aesthetic off. Croix gestured them to the chairs. “I’ll need a moment to set up, so make yourselves comfortable. I’ll take that for you,” she offered idly, and plucked the satchel from Lotte’s shoulder.

“Um—!” Lotte yelped, but it was too late. 

As the bag swung against Croix’s leg, a green bolt leapt from within it and knocked her down to one knee. The satchel fell from her arm and slouched open across the floor, freeing a few books, a bottle of medication, and the goddamn _Claiomh Solais._

Hannah’s arms dropped to her sides. All at once, the fear that had been building in her body broke and fell away, leaving only resignation. _That’s it. We’re done for._

“Ah,” Croix said flatly, staring at it.

Lotte knelt to gather the items up. “S-sorry,” she said. “Akko had me holding on to her Shiny Rod model, and sometimes it—!” She screamed and covered her head as a trio of sorcery units burst into the room. Two were carrying a metal stand between them, and the third slung a winch down to snatch the Shiny Rod up. The stand slammed down across the room from the scanning bed and the Rod lightly bobbed down to hover over it.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Croix said. “That stand will keep its magic from interfering with our scans.”

Hannah pulled Lotte to her feet. “You’re not, uh, more interested in…?”

“Well, it clearly isn’t the real thing,” Croix said dismissively. “Don’t get me wrong, we all love Akko to bits, but would someone like her really be entrusted with a legendary artifact?”

Hannah was surprised to feel Lotte’s arm tense beneath her hand. She pounced to head off any reaction. “Ha! Good point.”

“Do I have a volunteer for a quick scan?” Croix asked, turning her back on the Rod. “The first thing we need to do is confirm whether the ritual actually transformed your bodies.”

“But we know it did,” Hannah objected. “Akko’s buff now, and I’ve got bad lungs, and Lotte, uh.”

Lotte half-smiled and patted her belly. The tension was still there, but she was willing to play along. “Our clothes changed, too. Even the clothes in our closets – I changed into this outfit after the ritual, and it fits perfectly.”

“Ah, you see?” Croix said. “This could be a simple transformation, or a dimensional overlay, or even an effect that reaches back through your personal timelines and reweaves your fate! I’ll, ah, admit that that one is unlikely.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that mess with everyone else’s memory?” Hannah suggested.

“Very astute!” Croix said, and Hannah’s cheeks warmed despite herself. That charisma was dangerous! “I do remember both of you looking a bit different. The clothing is a puzzle, though – perhaps a transformation that spreads to objects associated with you? When magic reaches outside of the bounds of its own world, it can do funny things like that.”

“I’ll go,” Lotte offered. “If it’ll help everyone get home.”

“Okay, then! The first test will be for transformation magic, then we’ll drop you into a light trance for a mental scan.” Croix waved to the bed. “You don’t have to undress or anything, so just hop on.”

“And so you know,” Lotte added, clambering up and stretching out. “Depending on how far back it goes, you might get a record from three or four years ago. That’s accounted for, and private.”

“Got it,” Croix said with a brisk nod. “Now just hold still, and…”

Soft green beams played across Lotte’s body and she squirmed. “Oh! Sorry. Am I ruining it?”

“ _Two instances detected,_ ” a mechanical voice said from above. “ _One instance last night. Simple transformation magic, base form unaltered, duration indefinite. One instance four years and forty-two days ago. Major transformation magic, base form altered, duration permanent._ ”

Lotte cast a nervous glance to Hannah. _That’s none of my business,_ Hannah decided.

“Just like you said,” Croix murmured. “Though it’s interesting that the ritual itself doesn’t overtly include transformation magic – it’s hidden away in secondary spells. Woodward’s work is so subtle…” She raised her volume a little. “We’re ready to induce the trance now. All you have to do is relax. Hannah, keep an eye on her and talk to her if it looks like she’s drifting off, okay?”

Hannah shuffled up to the side of the bed and they looked at each other awkwardly. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Lotte smiled and Hannah flinched back. _What’s going through her head? Don’t I have enough to think about without this?_

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” Lotte said. Her voice was already thick and drowsy.

“If you say so,” Hannah muttered, and leaned closer. “Let’s hurry and get you out of there after…”

“And now the scan,” Croix announced. The beams were red this time, but they played over Lotte’s whole body, just like the last set. 

_Maybe there’s more to your mind than just your brain,_ Hannah reasoned. _Okay, pay attention. If we’re going to get anything out of this…_

“ _Error,_ ” the scanning bed reported. “ _Two mental profiles detected. Unable to decode._ ”

“’S that bad?” Lotte asked.

“No, I think it’s encouraging. The fact that it’s detecting two distinct minds means that it should be easier to disentangle you.” Croix’s thoughtful look grew more intense. “We do need to see how you’re connected, though. I think I’ll have to take you deeper for this next part. You’ll probably fall asleep, but don’t worry, Hannah and I will look out for you.”

Lotte nodded, eyelids fluttering. “Hannah, keep watching and…” she yawned and fell still.

Hannah felt a lump in her throat and gritted her teeth angrily. Lotte knew the danger they were in but wanted to take the chance to learn about their predicament. _Is she_ seriously _just offering herself up? I could never…_

“Simple transformation, two minds, active link across worlds…” Croix muttered. “Okay, I think this can work. Stand back, if you would, Hannah.”

“Wait, hang on, what are you…?”

“Don’t mind the pixels.”

Two streams of those little cubes entered the room and started assembling a magic circle around the bed, sinking into the stone floor as though it were thick mud. Another set came in from a different angle and built a secondary circle around the Shiny Rod’s pedestal, connecting them with a thin bridge of braided lines, and a fourth posted themselves in the air, forming a line leading to the distant Noir Rod. Instead of beams shining down on her, soft streamers of light were rising gently from Lotte’s body, first green and turquoise, then red and blue, twisting and coiling like smoke as they gathered together above the bed and then wound out along the Noir Rod’s connection.

Hannah stumbled in place as a familiar, soaring feeling took her; just like on the night of the ritual, she felt a tug at her consciousness, the space between dimensions beckoning. An awful intuition boiled up in her brain. She vividly pictured the end of the fairies’ riot, and the streamers of red light that Croix’s machines had drawn from their bodies. _She’s taking power from Lotte! That isn’t a scan, that’s her Fuel Spirit Whatever!_ And with the magic circle reaching beyond this world… she could almost _see_ those streamers working their way along the beams of light that connected their incarnations. Croix didn’t have just two Lottes to draw emotion from – she had a whole multiverse of them!

“Stop! Professor Meridies, stop!” Hannah was personally _all for_ a new Age of Magic, but that was a distant concern when her unconscious classmate was strapped to a table right in front of her. “You’re not just helping us, are you? You’re _using_ her! That’s your spell from the riot!”

A twinge of fear, a flash of anger, then a kind mask. “Now, I know this all looks unsettling…”

“Why are you linking her to the _Claiomh Solais?_ ” Hannah cried, drawing her wand. “That wasn’t in the plan! You didn’t even know we had it when you offered to help! What are you trying to do?”

Croix opened her mouth to reply, then shrugged and tapped her tablet. A cylinder of red light speared down from a sorcery unit over Hannah’s head and trapped her in a magical shell. “Look, I’ll explain everything when the procedure’s done with. For now, try to—"

“ _Luna Lana!_ ” Hannah screamed, and her wand ripped down through the barrier. The lights dimmed and sparks leapt from the scanning bed’s console. The sorcery unit that had trapped her hit the floor at her feet with an earsplitting _bang._

“What a surprise,” Croix said with a cold smile. “I’d never have expected a first-year student to cast such an advanced spell!”

“I’ve got the best damn tutor in Luna Nova!” Hannah cried. She leveled her wand on the professor. “Now let Lotte go, or I’ll…!”

Croix stood unmoved, arms crossed, as a translucent red wall of force cut through the room between them and more sorcery units dropped from the ceiling all around, turning their angry optics on Hannah. She realized that despite having the best damn tutor in Luna Nova, she was still facing down a powerful and experienced witch with unknown abilities and an army of minions in her own lair. With a soft, high-pitched keen, dozens of laser sights cut through the room and painted her from every angle.

“O-oh,” Hannah finished.


	9. War Council

Ursula’s brain was twisting into an ouroboros. Her work was simultaneously completely absorbing and impossible to focus on, drawing her in with its urgency and then skittering from her mind whenever she looked at it. Her worry over Akko and friends had squashed everything else out. _You said you’d let them handle it,_ she reminded herself. _They know they can come to you if they need to._

“CAW!” Alcor cried, shocking her from her fifth attempt at a coherent explanation of Guido Bonatti’s use of stellar midpoints in magical astrology, and how it was refined by witches into… _bleh_.

“What is it, Alcor?” Ursula asked tiredly.

“CAW!” he insisted, hopping up and down on his stand.

Ursula stood and flicked her wand up, summoning her projector from the floor. It hovered into place above her head and cast its star map over the room’s bare walls. Most of the stars glowed with steady, reassuring light; no disturbances in the magic of the forest tonight, nor in town… one, however, pulsed an ominous red. Her instruments were detecting an unusual surge of magic of a particular type that Ursula had hoped never to see again.

 _Fuel Spirit._ Ursula’s blood ran cold. _She’s still using it._

She’d promised not to interfere in Akko’s ritual business, but she couldn’t let this pass. With a cold, steady mien that none of her students would have recognized, Ursula prepared her gear. Alcor watched her silently, beady eyes gleaming in the gentle light. There was something like satisfaction in his gaze, but Chariot didn’t notice as she set out.

* * *

Halfway across the school, Barbara realized that she’d forgotten Yellow Team’s room number. Thankfully, the giant homemade sign that read _LNN HEADQUARTERS!_ was impossible to miss. She rapped on the door above and below the sign, a four-beat rhythm from a half-remembered episode of some corny TV show. She heard Kimberly ask something in a concerned voice and Wangari respond, then Kim called, “Enter!”

Barbara wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but this wasn’t it. All three beds were lofted, clearing the floor for a loveseat and an extra desk. Wangari sat curled into a ball in one corner of the loveseat, eyes shut, smiling through glistening tear streaks. She’d shed the sport coat, which honestly made her outfit hang together better. Kimberly sat next to her working in a large notepad, and Joanna was at her desk on the other side, using her wand to conjure a tiny darkroom for her developing photos. Both hovered close to Wangari, not quite touching, but peacefully in her space. It was a cozy scene, in a feline sort of way.

“Parker, right?” Kimberly said without looking up. “One of Diana’s cronies? What can we do for you?”

“Cronies,” Barbara scoffed, then considered further. “Well, that’s fair, maybe.”

Joanna smiled apologetically over her shoulder. “I’d try to be nicer about it, but your coven does have a pretty clear hierarchy.”

“Well, I’m working on something with Wangari. Uh, it might be a bad time, but you were talking about how you might know about…” She glanced between the others. Were they in on the secret?

“Dimension stuff, yes,” Wangari said, unfolding. Seeing her now, Barbara wondered how she hadn’t noticed the stress and worry devouring her before. “What do you have for me?”

“Diana’s notes for the counter ritual.” Barbara slapped them down into Wangari’s hands. “I tried looking at them and got totally lost. Your turn!”

“I don’t know if I’ll do any better, but… ah. Ah! Perfect!”

“What?”

Wangari strode across the room to the extra desk and spread the notes out in a fan. “Looks like she didn’t get too far before she, you know, conked out, but she set up a whole research program anyone can follow! Uh, no offense.” She pointed to a set of loosely sketched diagrams. “She has rough drafts for multiple versions, even! As expected of the Pride of Luna Nova, eh? But she didn’t know which would work best, because the witches’ knowledge of other dimensional planes is so limited.”

“But you…” Barbara started thoughtfully.

“But _me!_ ” Wangari agreed. “Just gotta take all the stuff one me knows about dimensions and mush it into what the other me knows about magic! This is gonna be simpler than I thought. No offense, again.”

Barbara shrugged. “You’re one of our top students. I’m not ashamed I can’t keep up with _you_.”

“Uh, sure,” Wangari said, briefly discomfited. “And, hey, what’s with all these flowers and butterflies?”

“Hm? Oh, Diana doodles sometimes.” Barbara leaned closer. “That’s interesting, though. The butterflies usually mean she’s feeling guilty about something. Wonder what was on her mind.”

Wangari frowned for a moment, then shrugged, then her smile returned. “Since I’m basically hacking my own brain to do this, I can’t really give you an estimate, but I should be able to pick one of these circles out and get it up to code pretty quick. You know that paintball spell, right? That they use to make magic circles instantly?”

“Yeah, all three of us do. I don’t know about the other covens.”

“Good! I could never get the hang of that one. Man, we’re almost out of this!”

“If only the ritual were our main problem.”

“It isn’t?”

“My idiot girlfriend just went up to the new professor’s lab with Lotte, and now we’re worried that— _oh no!_ ”

“Oh no what!?” Wangari cried frantically, but Barbara was already gone.

* * *

_Memory – The World of the Phantom Thief Dasher_

“Ah,” Dasher said, regaining her cool. (Her, again? Inconvenient time to shift. No time to change her outfit.) “Hey, there. Didn’t think you could take me alone?”

The Silver Sentry hovered before her, resplendent in gleaming armor. The silvery mass of alien cybermatter she’d bonded with hovered behind her like an angel’s wings, casting weird reflections all over the warehouse. Beyond, two other heroes had slipped in to fly in a delta with her – Cold Fusion, a tall, dignified Indian woman in black and blue, and Solar, the Amazing Exploding Girl, a tiny Icelandic redhead in an eye-watering yellow costume.

“It’s Lunopolis League standard procedure,” Cold Fusion explained. “When a member’s friend or romantic partner is kidnapped, we never let them mount the rescue mission alone. We don’t want anyone getting… carried away.”

“In other words,” the Silver Sentry said, with deadly calm. “They’re here to protect _you._ ”

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my—!” Dasher dodged a volley of forked spears that wound about and raced after her like grasping hands. A quicksilver lattice formed a fence before her, but she flashed through it. Dasher hit the ground in a roll, wove around another cluster of spears, confidently vaulted, and flashed towards the Sentry – then took a jackhammer punch to the face the instant she reappeared. Stars exploded through her skull and a giant metallic claw scooped her from the air before she regained her senses (or hit the concrete floor, thankfully.)

“Are you done?” the Sentry growled, turning slowly. Silvery veins pulsed down her arm, pauldron to gauntlet. “Believe it or not, I’d rather not brutalize you any further.”

“After just one punch? What kind of superhero are you? We should be at this all—!” Dasher flashed from the claw’s grasp and reappeared in a spinning kick. “— _night!_ ”

The Silver Sentry reeled back, fragments of her helmet flying wide, and landed in a crouch. Golden hair fell free, and a furious blue eye glared across the battlefield as Dasher came down in a handsome three-point landing.

“Wait, you’re _Diana Cavendish_?” Dasher cried, stumbling out of the pose and falling on her butt. “I’ve robbed your house like three times! Why _aren’t_ you hunting me?”

Diana didn’t respond, just shaking her head and tossing aside the remaining half of her helmet.

“What a _waste!_ You’re supposed to be some kind of genius inventor, and you can’t think of anything better to do with that cyber stuff than punch bank robbers?”

“Ah, yes,” Diana replied acidly. “Next time Chronolord McIntyre invades from the future, I’ll just tell her that—no.” The metal twisted around her in a helix, intercepting Dasher’s handful of smoke pellets and dispersing their clouds instantly. Dasher had already flown into a jump kick and just had time to lock eyes with her foe and regret all of her life choices before—

—she was gently swept from the air and restrained? The cybermatter hardened into solid loops around her limbs and torso but stayed soft and fluid on their inner surfaces. More tendrils spread all around her, making a flower of wicked spikes to discourage flashing out. As she struggled experimentally, one last tendril nudged up behind her neck to give her a headrest.

“What was _that?_ ” Dasher squawked. This wasn’t the time to complain, but she couldn’t help but take offense at the kid-gloves treatment.

“I won’t insult you by apologizing for the punch,” Diana replied. “But there was never any need for us to fight. Now: where is Atsuko?”

“I let her go,” Dasher said. “Her editor came along and got her.”

“Her editor?” Diana frowned in confusion. “I don’t believe you. How would Ms. Muthiga even know to come here? Your challenge was encrypted. Did you tell the press, as well? That would be brazen even for you.”

It was making her life more difficult at the moment, but Dasher enjoyed having that bit of knowledge over her. As she considered what to say, Diana’s Lunopolis League communicator chirped. The superhero snatched it up with a snarl of “Who could be—?”, then gasped and slammed it to her face.

“Akko? Where are—?” Diana was interrupted by blast of tinny chipmunk chatter that Dasher could almost make out. “What? You went with her? Did you cook this up between you, or—? No? Then she _did_ kidnap—Akko? Akko! _Akko!_ ” She paused. “I’m sorry for yelling. I won’t hurt her. I promise. Yes, I _promise._ ” She listened for a few moments longer. “I understand, I think. We can talk more about this later. I need to finish things here. Yes, you too.” She turned her communicator off and looked up at Amanda with a bemused expression.

In a rare moment of prudence, Dasher didn’t stick her tongue out.

“A waste, then?” Diana asked.

“I used to give you a pass ‘cause you’re so hot, but I really hate superheroes like you,” Dasher said. “You have those crazy powers, you can just – you can do anything, and then you spend all night running around getting into fights. That’s stupid, right? I can tell you, if _I_ had amazing, do-anything powers, I’d find better uses for them than that! Muthiga’s using her crazy cosmic powers to run a newspaper! You ever think of that?”

“You hardly know how I spend my…” Diana broke off. “Is that really what you wanted to tell me, with all those callout videos?”

“No,” Dasher admitted. “There was something else. But I think that’s done with.”

Diana nodded. “And you have interesting powers of your own. I read your file on the way here. Why do you go sneaking around stealing things from celebrities? If your goals were activist, you could surely work more effectively in other ways.”

“I zip around all quick and stealthy, and I don’t want to hurt anyone. What else am I gonna do?”

“Search and rescue?” Diana suggested.

“Working in dangerous environments,” Cold Fusion offered.

“You could put on shows!” Solar added, spreading a rainbow of tiny explosions from her hands.

Amanda almost made a sarcastic comment but held off when Cold Fusion caught her eye. Yeah, there was no reason to pick on Solar, was there? She was nice enough, as super-narcs went. “Maybe so,” she said grudgingly.

“I’m going to release you,” Diana said, raising a hand. “But first, I need to know what you’re going to do. Are we done fighting now?”

“You’ll have to do it and find out,” Amanda replied.

“Are you… really being difficult? _Now?_ ”

“Ha! Well, yeah! We’re not friends all of a sudden. Why would I make this easy for you?”

“Because instead of letting you out, I could just call the authorities and have you charged with kidnapping. I’d hate putting Atsuko in that position, but…”

“If you’d hate putting her in that position, then don’t! Roll the dice! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Diana cast an uncertain glance back to her teammates and hissed under her breath.

The strands of cybermatter around Amanda loosened and started to uncoil. In turn, her limbs tensed, ready for action. Amanda honestly had no idea what her next move was. It seemed like she didn’t have any good options – slink away, chastened? Get her ass kicked by a premier superhero and go to jail? Alienate her best friend by somehow beating up that superhero?

She didn’t know how she wanted this encounter to end, but Amanda was _determined_ to—

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Amanda woke with a roar of, “What do you _want?_ Some of us are _trying_ to have nightmares, here!”

Barbara was floating by the side of her bed, thrusting a broom towards her. “ _Go! Now!_ ”

Impulses from both Amandas collided and flung her into the cold night air. Barbara, clinging weightlessly to her back, pointed towards the New Moon Tower. There she saw Hannah in freefall, trailed by a glittering cloud of broken glass and two sorcery units deploying glowing nets.

 _How in the hell—?_ Amanda cast her wand up and barked out a half-remembered incantation. Sure enough, a rippling green kite appeared, sweeping the glass from overhead as she slammed into Hannah. “Gotcha!” she snarled as they went into a spin.

Hannah screamed; annoying, but she had a point. They were certainly going to crash.

Barbara sprang free of the broom and thrust her wand towards the pursuing sorcery units. A bolt of deep red flame speared out and reduced one to a ball of slag that pasted the other from the air. They tumbled together and blasted a smoldering circle into the school lawn’s growing carpet of snow. Barbara turned lazily to say something cocky but saw that her friends had left her far behind and hadn’t fared much better than the sorcery units. “C-crap!”

She touched down and surveyed the scene. They’d made it well into the forest, mostly hidden from the tower. Amanda was sprawled in the snow in a half-circle around Hannah, having mostly caught her as they were flung from the broom. Her back was pressed against a tree, but it didn’t look like she’d hit it too hard. The broom was long gone. No blood or obvious broken bones, at least, and nobody was screaming. Maybe the crash hadn’t been so bad?

“Are-are you dead?” Barbara asked, barely stopping herself from adding ‘too.’

“It’ll take more than that to take _me_ out,” Amanda growled, pushing Hannah to sit up and scooting away. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Barbara agreed. “For the catch, if not the crash.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, subdued. “Thanks.”

Amanda’s glower faded. “You, uh, didn’t take a hit to the head, did you, Hannah? You okay?”

When Hannah didn’t answer, Barbara passed her wand over her.

“She did, but it’s not too bad,” Barbara said, gently cupping a hand behind Hannah’s head and helping her into a more comfortable position. “I’m more worried about that bruised rib. Do you think we can risk a fire?”

“I don’t see any more of those flying saucer things,” Amanda reported, scanning the sky from the tree line. “But we’re not gonna stick around long enough to need one, are we?”

Barbara had already gathered a pile of tinder with a sweep of her wand and ignited it with a sharp flick. “She’s injured, Amanda. I’m getting ready to fix her up – and maybe we can find out what happened where there’s no teachers or staff in earshot?”

“Okay, I’ll leave ya to it,” the Forest Ranger Goblin said behind her, and skulked off into the woods.

“That guy’s awesome,” Amanda said, then her tone grew more urgent. “Okay. Hannah, what happened up there? Is Lotte okay?”

“She,” Hannah started, then winced and clutched at her side. “I don’t know. Croix didn’t want to hurt me, but she was taking power from Lotte, like how she did with the fairies. She called it Noir Fuel Spirit.”

“Is she _trying_ to be a supervillain?” Amanda asked. “And… how did you get all messed up?”

“Hang on,” Barbara said. “Hannah, can you hold your breath for me? I’m gonna use that healing spell Diana taught us. Look away, Aman… oh, who cares at this point? _Amabarreg Suavus._ ” Green and gold ribbons of magic fell from her wand in great loops that settled over Hannah’s body, then gently constricted on her injuries. Rib, ankle, shoulder, something in her head… “Okay, you can breathe again! You did good, Hannah. I know how weird that spell feels.”

Hannah gave her a bedraggled smile. “Thanks, Barb.”

“What _was_ that?” Amanda asked, eyes wide. The healing magic practiced in the Luna Nova infirmary was bright and impersonal, like a sterilized scalpel, and Lotte’s little trick with the fairies… didn’t bear thinking about. This was something different. A watchful, loving presence had settled over them. A gentle touch from another time…

“That face!” Barbara sighed. “You look like a Disney Princess!” She continued as Amanda angrily composed herself. “It’s a secret Cavendish family spell Diana taught us. They gave stronger spells to the world, and easier, but I’m really good at this one for some reason. Diana got worried after our run-in with Lukić’s prize for the broom race…”

Hannah shivered. “All those snakes.”

“D-don’t move!’ Barbara cried. “You have to hold still while it’s working!”

“Can she—?” Amanda tripped over her words and tried again. “Can you tell us what happened, or do you have to seriously not-move not-move?”

“Slow and easy,” Barbara murmured, with a cautioning hand on Hannah’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Hannah replied softly, then raised her voice. “I don’t remember too clearly, but it was something like…”

* * *

“ _Luna Lana!_ ” This time, Hannah’s spell lashed against the shield and broke without even making it flicker. She turned on her heel as the door locked and blew it off its hinges with a blast of lightning. The sorcery units deployed tiny zappers and opened fire, but their bolts didn’t fall anywhere near their ominous laser sights. Hannah slammed stomach first into the balcony rail outside and desperately stumbled in a half-circle, sprinting for the stairs.

“No, no, no!” Croix roared. “Don’t _shoot_ her, you numbskulls! Capture protocol! Capture! Don’t hurt her!”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring. Hannah hit the top of the stairs at a dead run and threw herself into the air, plastering against the wall halfway down and using the impact to reverse momentum. Pain speared through her ankle as she hit the bottom of the next flight and stumbled back onto the balcony. It was too soon to be tired, but her whole body felt like an overstretched balloon, pounding to her heartbeat. She sagged against the rail and cast about for the way out.

“ _Containment protocol engaged,_ ” a computer voice intoned, somehow softly filling every corner of the lab. Overhead, red light poured in through the open doors on the top floor and oozed downward like a nightmare sunset, emerging on the next floor down even as Hannah watched. A glowing barrier was slowly descending around the outside of the tower. _Diana told us about that! The idea was to protect the school from her experiments, not…_

On the bottom floor of the lab, a giant slab of a security door slammed into place.

Four sorcery units were swooping from above. Back to the stairs? With a sinking feeling, Hannah realized there was nowhere to flee to that way. Her escape route had just been closed off. Tearing up, she limped into an open examination room and braced herself in the doorway, taking aim. The first two sorcery units were blown spinning away by lightning bolts, one, two, but the other two retreated behind the balcony above.

“Now what?” Hannah hobbled into the room and cast a sealing spell on the door behind her. No telling how long it would hold. Outside, the barrier had reached the floor above. In another minute or so, the lab would be completely sealed off.

There was only one thing to do. “About to fall from the tower! Someone catch me!” she yelled into her wand, then slammed it into the window. Maybe she overdid her crystal harmonic spell, because it _exploded,_ casting glittering fragments amid the snow.

As black claws punched through the door behind her and started to peel it away, she leapt into space and emptied her mind. She could only trust, now.

* * *

“Pretty badass,” Amanda admitted. “We never got your call for help, though.” 

“I panicked,” Hannah said, blushing. “I muffed the sending spell.”

“Good thing it was that one, and not the lightning, huh? Wait, then how did Barbara know to…?”

“I’m not sure. I just suddenly got really scared and knew where to be. It might be a ghost thing.” Barbara ran her wand over Hannah again and nodded. “Five minutes, and you’ll be good to go.”

“I can go now!” Hannah insisted. “We have to…”

“Five minutes.” Barbara gently pressed her hand to Hannah’s forehead. “Don’t move, try not to talk, now – try not to think too hard, if you can help it. Relax and let the spell do its work, okay? Then you can tear around all you want!”

Hannah huffed and closed her eyes.

“By the way, where’d you learn that shield spell, that you stopped all the glass with?” Barbara asked over her shoulder.

“Uh, picked it up,” Amanda said carelessly. “Saw Finneran use it earlier, when she showed me the tunnel.”

“You can just _do_ that? Most people can’t learn spells that way. Why are you failing half your classes, if you’re that talented?”

“Well, maybe _you_ think magic is so wonderful, but what good is it these days?”

There was a deep well of frustration and pain behind those words. Barbara’s fool instincts flared, urging her to pick at a weakness presented, but she also didn’t want Amanda to punch her in front of Hannah. That would end badly for everyone. She could finish the punching experiment later. “Then why are you here?” she asked carefully.

“Family shit. They want me to learn divining so I can save the family business.” Amanda threaded her hands behind her head and turned her nose up. “I say, if it goes under, it goes under. Just ‘cause I popped out of one of ‘em doesn’t mean they get to say what my life’s gonna be.”

“You’re like a reverse-Diana,” Barbara observed, watching the snow drift down. “She’s all wrapped up in her family name and the work they do, and this whole twisted old world of magic, but she tries to be the best she can in it. As if she can make it all better by giving herself to it and doing everything right. But here you are, saying ‘screw the whole thing!’ instead. I think your way might be smarter, especially if more people did it.”

Fleetingly, Hannah thought of a Diana dealing drugs to fund hospitals and social workers in a desperately corrupt city, and Amanda pictured the gleaming Paragon of Lunopolis wasting her time on a daily grind of supervillains, but both had more immediate concerns.

“Might be,” Amanda said carelessly. “But forget being smart. I just wanna be me.”

Barbara snorted. “I’ll let that one go.”

“But doesn’t her family do hospitals and stuff? Ours is just an oil company. Maybe I’d feel different if we actually helped people…” Amanda’s thoughtful expression fell back into a sneer. “But anyway, if they just want to use me as a dowsing rod, I’ve got no use for magic.”

“I just thought someone like you would be more interested in learning how tell the laws of physics to take a hike,” Barbara said. “You don’t _have_ to learn the things they want you to here.”

“Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that. And other things.”

“You’re carrying yourself a little differently,” Hannah observed. “It’s your shoulders.”

“What are you, a cop?”

“Not really. Private eye. Okay.” Hannah sat up with a pained groan. “Look, this is urgent. We’ve gotta help Lotte. Can I at least tell everyone what’s going on, so they can get ready?”

“Just don’t breathe too deep, or you’ll mess up your rib before it finishes healing,” Barbara said. “I know how you gulp air when you get excited.” She wheeled about, boots leaving the ground. “ _Speaking_ of, I just noticed something really odd. What is _she_ doing out here? Oh, I just have to check this out! I’ll catch up with you guys later!” With that, she vanished into the snow, _plunk._

“Wait, what?” Hannah twitched after her, but then settled back into the healing spell. “What was _that?_ She just ditched me!”

“Probably just her ghost half messing with her,” Amanda said bracingly. “We’ll sort that out. You wanna make your announcement?”

Hannah nodded and steeled herself. “Okay, listen up,” she said into her wand.

* * *

“Well,” Sucy observed dryly, gazing up at the lab’s impenetrable outer security door, an ominous obsidian block etched with angular red lines. It looked like nothing that belonged in Luna Nova. But then Sucy, swathed in a writhing black aura that protected her from the light of the Sorcerer’s Stone, wasn’t one to talk. “This is disappointing.”

Next to her, Akko let out a shrill yell and resumed beating on the door with her sword. After a few strokes, the blade dented and she fell back, panting. With a few flicks of her wrist, she dismissed the sword and started absently wringing her hand.

 _She’s scary strong when she wants to be,_ Sucy noted. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No, it—” Akko started, then held out her hand and realized it was quivering. “Owww! Why’d you have to go and point it out to meee?”

“Oh, quit whining and drink this.” Sucy thrust a small bottle into her hands. Akko immediately pulled the cork and tossed it back; while she used to enjoy that trusting quality, it was starting to make Sucy feel bad about pranking her. “It’s just a painkiller, so take it easy on that hand for a little while.”

“Sure,” Akko said, dispirited. “What do we do now?”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” 

Sucy turned away and let her eyes relax, losing sight of the physical world in favor of the blood-red network of human hearts stitching Luna Nova together. It almost made her smile to see dozens of distinct, vivid triangles flaring out of the darkness, crisscrossed with fainter lines from other connections. Whoever assigned the student covens really knew their business. One of those triangles was stretched out painfully – Conz in her workshop, Amanda out in the woods for some reason, and Jasna beyond. _If I’d figured this out sooner, finding her would’ve been easy._

Her enjoyment faded as she turned back and saw the bright line connecting Akko and Lotte up above, tauntingly close, and no lines connecting them to her. She knew that not seeing her own lines was normal, but it gave her an awful, gnawing feeling she’d never experienced before. Would she complete the triangle? What did her bonds look like? Did they really exist?

“You okay?” Akko asked.

“Peachy,” Sucy growled. She looked back up, searching for some path through the darkness around this barrier, and saw something that sent a tingle down her spine. A faint bond had just leapt between Lotte and the other heart up there, presumably Croix. It was a purely instrumental relationship, she saw, and belled a bit, bending in an arc towards… Akko? _What the hell is going on up there?_

Akko groaned impatiently and summoned another sword, gripping it in her off-hand and eyeing the door. “Maybe if I can wedge it in those grooves…”

“Okay, listen up,” Hannah said from their wands. “I just broke out of Croix’s lab, but Lotte is still up there, and she’s in danger.”

A stanbot chimed in. “MS. CONSTANZE TOLD YOU—”

“Yes, yes, Constanze is _very smart,_ ” Hannah snapped. “Shut up!” She gave a clipped report of the situation she’d left Lotte in, Croix’s likely goal, and what she knew about the barrier now sealing the top floors of the tower. “We have to get back in there and rescue Lotte! If we can’t figure out a way through that barrier, then we’ll have to go to the teachers.”

“ _What?_ ” Amanda yelled in the background.

“Sorry, but what do you want me to say? Can we do it? Or do I have to march to the headmistress’s office right now?”

“Hey, Conz, what analysis spell do you use?” Sucy sent. “I’m right outside the lab with Akko.”

“MS. CONSTANZE IS BEST AT PARSING _MANGAOGON._ ”

Sucy grimaced. “I’m terrible at that one. _Mangaogon!_ ” Following the course of her wand, a dozen green orbs winked into being behind her and manifested unnerving yellow eyes that rolled about to take in the whole door, then popped like soap bubbles. Sucy raised her wand to send the data. “Here it comes now.”

“MS. CONSTANZE CAN BREAK THE DOOR,” the stanbot announced. “EVERYONE WHO CAN, COME TO GREEN TEAM’S ROOM.”

“That means you,” Sucy said to Akko. “That spell showed me something else about the door.”

“What’s tha—? Hey!” Akko yelped as Sucy slipped into the archway’s shadow and vanished. “Are you kidding? Sucyyy!” She hauled back to throw her sword at the shadows, realized how dangerous that would be, and dismissed it. All she could do was grouse to herself as she started down the stairs.

* * *

_Memory – The World of Lotte “Jan” Jansson, the Pride of Regulus Academy_

It was far too early in the morning to sing. Really, it was too early to do anything, but Regulus Academy didn’t care for its students’ petty human sleep schedules, so cramming an activity in before class started meant rising in the cold and dark. Jan forced herself to sparkle and bounce as she directed her special chorale group in the small, stuffy room she’d managed to reserve, guiding them through a piece that none of them quite had a handle on yet.

It was honestly painful, but better than the last meeting. And the next meeting would be better still!

“Good job everyone,” Jan called as they finished. “I’ll see you on Thursday, but if anyone needs help with their parts, be sure to ask on the group Discord, okay?”

As always, a few members lined up at the front, either to ask questions, or just wanting to chat. Jan always closed a few minutes early for these little socials. She was the chubby little spider at the center of a dozen social webs, but sometimes it was nice to just chill with people she liked. A few of her classmates were discreetly making eyes at her; ironically, it seemed like she’d picked up even more admirers since she’d started dating Barbara. _Must be a confidence thing._

The chorale members filtered away, leaving a tall, looming figure who’d no doubt come on business. Sayaka Kanamori pulled up one of the chairs and sat across from her, fixing her with a look that she’d once thought was bitter annoyance, but now understood to be contemplative.

Jan couldn’t hold in a resigned sigh. “What’s on your mind, Sayaka?”

“You have a habit of collecting strays.” Kanamori started cracking her fingers one by one. “Are we still planning to make an album of the chorale group’s music at the end of the year?”

Jan pinched the bridge of her nose. She could see exactly where Kanamori was going and didn’t like it. “You’ll have to explain the connection between those two points.”

“I might be missing something, but it seems strange that you’re assigning parts to people on the basis of what they _can’t_ do. You’re giving every major part in your songs to people who struggle to perform them. It’s good that you’re helping the ones who are having trouble, but the music you get from it…”

“Everyone in my chorale group is also a member of the main chorus,” Jan replied. “They’re here for something that they can’t get out of their normal classes. If I didn’t push them, they’d have no reason to get up at 5am.”

“You can push them without choosing songs that are completely beyond their abilities.”

“I have faith in them. The parts won’t be beyond their abilities for long.” Jan’s expression hardened a little. “And sorry, but we’re all here to learn, not stamp out profitable albums.”

“Be that as it may,” Kanamori said. “Please keep the quality of the final recording in mind. We may all be learning, but your classmates are working hard to create something they can be proud of.”

“Understood.” Jan wanted to argue more, but Kanamori had a point, much as she hated to admit it. And she had that infuriating polite-but-blunt way of delivering it… as they stepped out into the hall, her tone lightened. “I’ll see you after school, if you’re still coming to the production meeting.”

Kanamori gave her a nod and strode off. Not too far down the hall, a girl in a bucket hat ambushed her with a jab to the ribs and they fell into an easy slapstick routine. Before they could really get going, another girl ran up and excitedly thrust a sheaf of drawings into her hands. Kanamori started thumbing through them as the trio continued down the hall. _You’ve got some strays of your own, I see._ Oddly, that made her feel better about Kanamori’s motives, and the whole conversation.

Running the chorale meetings felt like a full day’s work, but now Jan had to _actually_ start her day. She paused outside of her first period calculus class to make sure no hall monitors were looking and wolf down a granola bar. _And that was breakfast. I really have to start taking better care of myself._ She drew a deep breath, centered herself, and entered the classroom.

And stepped right into a kiss.

“Pfwah!” Jan reeled back in a haze of violets and amber. “Wha—who—criminal!” she hollered after the fleeing Barbara, shaking her fist. She plopped into her desk, struggling to catch her breath and keep a stupid smile off her face. They’d agreed to give each other more space during the school day, but that didn’t preclude a little kiss now and again, did it? Maybe it should. But then she made eye contact with Barbara across the room and her smile finally broke through, and Barbara smirked back in her unbearably cocky way, and…

Jan dropped her head onto her desk in joyful despair. Maybe someday Barbara would lose the power to disintegrate her into a blushing puddle at will, but it sure seemed a long way off.

“Good morning, everyone,” Professor Babcock said. “I know you’re all just _itching_ to get into our lesson for the day, but before that, we have a new student to introduce. Atsuko?”

Jan reluctantly lifted her head. While the new girl towered over Babcock, she was still short and whip-slender, bent sideways by the weight of an overstuffed backpack. Brown hair closed around her face, but parted as Atsuko stepped forward and her eyes caught the morning sunlight, washing them deep red.

“H-hello! My name is Atsuko Kagari, but you can call me Akko!” she said in a thin, over-bright voice. “I’m an animation student, here to make cartoons just like Chariot du Nord! I like all kinds of shows, though, so I’ll be happy to work with you!” She bowed sharply. “I’m very pleased to meet you all!”

Nobody reacted, unless blank stares counted. The silence wasn’t because she’d done anything wrong; it was just too early to process new information, let alone a whole new person to meet. Akko wilted in the dead air and Jan felt a sympathetic sting.

“Yes, good to meet you,” Babcock said. “Go ahead and pick out a seat.”

Jan realized with a start that there were only two open desks. One was in front of her, and the other was next to Sucy Manbavaran. Sucy was a bully, a mistress of cruel and inventive pranks with very few scruples about who she targeted, and even less concern about retaliation. The idea of this new girl at her mercy was _horrifying_. Jan quickly threw on a smile and beckoned to the seat in front of her.

Akko scurried over and sat down, giving her a shy, grateful smile. Oh, right – that was the first positive reaction she’d gotten, wasn’t it? Before Jan could think of how to respond, Babcock launched into the lesson and Akko whipped around anxiously, fumbling through her pack for her textbook.

 _She’s like a nervous little mouse!_ Jan felt her heart melting and sighed in defeat. _I just adopted another one, didn’t I?_

* * *

_Luna Nova_

Examination room 12 was unnervingly quiet, especially now that Croix had shut down the Noir Rod. She waited patiently, arms crossed, as her subject slowly recovered and stirred. Without the ritual keeping her under, Lotte would be springing back any moment.

“Whuh… where am—?” Lotte made to rise and banged her face on the scanning bed’s rings. “ _Agh!_ That’s right! Professor Meridies, what’s happening?”

“We had a bit of a misadventure,” Croix admitted. “Hannah got suspicious of my intentions – rightly, it happens – and fought her way out of the lab. She’s probably running to gather your friends now. She didn’t want to leave you, obviously, but I outmatched her so severely that she had no choice.”

“You really are up to something…” Lotte said, pushing the ring aside so she could sit up. Her expression was more wary than afraid. “But why would you admit to all of that?”

“I suppose I’m having an attack of conscience,” Croix said. “I’m going to say my piece, and if you want to leave after you’ve heard me out, I’ll let you.”

“Wh-why should I listen to anything you have to say?”

“Because on top of everything else, I’m trying to protect you and your friends.” Croix threw an angry hand towards the Shiny Rod. “From _that thing._ ”

Lotte stopped herself on the edge of retorting. She remembered Akko’s fears that this could be another of the Rod’s tests, and what it could mean for the future. A familiar feeling prickled at her heart; not pity, exactly, but anxiety for a vulnerable friend. “What do you mean?”

“Because I worked alongside Chariot du Nord as she tried to awaken the Seven Words. I’ve seen firsthand what this ‘Shiny Rod’ does to its bearers – _and_ everyone around them. Let’s see, how far along is Akko?” Croix made a show of looking the Rod up and down. “Ahh, the fourth word. I remember that one! I was trapped in the Iron Casket of Asteria for seven hours, all so Chariot could learn a cute little life lesson about patience. And when she got me out, _I_ was the one who had to comfort _her!_ ” She stopped and drew a deep breath. “No. No, I won’t be bitter about that. It wasn’t Chariot’s fault, and she saved me. But I don’t know how the Rod will test Akko. I can tell you that, as her friend, you’re in the line of fire. Even if this mess you’re in now isn’t a test, the next one could be something that hurts you.”

“I’m… I’m ready for that.”

“I remember that devotion! But if your own pain won’t convince you, what about Akko’s? How do you think she’d feel if you got trapped in that casket, or struck down by some illness? What if she had to see you wasting away, and running off to learn some asinine moral lesson was the only way she could help you? What would it take to teach _her_ patience?”

“Would you stop insulting Akko?” Lotte snapped. “You’re being so backhanded; I hate it! She’s not stupid! And I-I trust her to see this through!”

“You’re right,” Croix said quickly, covering her face with one hand. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m… letting my memories get the best of me. Akko’s a wonderful girl, and she might have a better chance to do this than Chariot did – but I’m telling you _she doesn’t have to._ You girls don’t deserve to suffer like we did! Do you understand how absurd all of this is? Did Akko tell you about the second test? I assume it was the same as Chariot’s.”

“A-a little. It’s the reason we did our ritual; she wanted to meet the other Akko that the spirit showed her.”

“And if Akko had failed the test, if she had stepped through that door to become her dream… what do you think would have happened to the girl we know?”

Lotte shook her head, wide-eyed.

“I don’t know either,” Croix admitted. “And we never learned. Perhaps the spirit was just bluffing, but she was offering to obliterate Akko from this world and erase her soul. Taking that offer would scar you even if it didn’t happen. As I get older, the fact that it subjects _kids_ to that choice enrages me more and more.”

“What do you want to do instead?” Lotte asked.

Croix stood tall and jerked a thumb towards her chest. “I’m going to bypass the Shiny Rod’s nonsense and use my Noir Rod to smash through the seal on the Grand Triskelion with raw strength. As you saw, I’ve developed a way to gather magical power from emotions – as long as I don’t draw too much from a single person, it doesn’t hurt them at all. In fact, it may even have some benefits! My original plan was to develop a way for people to offer me little sips of power here and there, a phone app or something similar, and rely on a large mass of users to gather the power I need. Your situation offers us the opportunity for something faster, though.”

“Us?”

“Us. I won’t proceed without your say-so, of course! Now that you’re linked to another world, the Noir Rod can reach out along your beam to other versions of you… and across all of the worlds we can reach, there are more Lottes out there than humans on this planet. You see? There’s no need to risk drawing too much from any one person! I’ve done the calculations and–” Croix clapped her hands loudly and Lotte winced. “That moment of surprise? That was you expending a bit of emotional energy and immediately growing it back. That’s how much we’d need from each Lotte. None of them would even notice!”

“I’m not sure… I don’t know if it’s right to draw from them without asking. And I want to trust Akko…”

“You can trust in Akko and still recognize when she’s being unjustly hurt. I’ll just ask you to consider one more thing. I worked with Chariot as she unlocked each Word of Arcturus, but we never managed to reach the seventh Word. Who knows what horrors she’d have faced… and in the meantime, I got to watch the tests chew Chariot up and spit her out, and turn her into someone I barely recognized. Maybe they did the same to me – who can say?”

Lotte struggled to find a polite reply to that.

“Yes, I _know_. I am keenly aware of my faults, thank you. But listen: Akko wants to be just like Shiny Chariot, doesn’t she? Well, _where did Shiny Chariot end up?_ If this continues, she’s going to get her wish, and find out that it’s nothing like what she wanted. You and I, here, now – we can save her from that.” Croix offered her hand. “What do you say?”

Lotte hesitated for a few seconds, trembling as her selves went to war. Finally, she slowly, reluctantly reached out and clasped Croix’s hand.

“Atta girl,” Croix said. “You won’t regret this!”

* * *

Constanze had emerged into Green Team’s room to plan the rescue mission. Diana helped her set up a flatscreen monitor as some stanbots brought a set of chairs up from below. With Lotte captive, Wangari finishing the ritual, Jasminka in hiding, and their pet ghost and vampire swimming around at random, they were only expecting three attendees.

Amanda swaggered in right on time and held the door for Hannah, who seemed distracted and worried.

“Barbara hared off after something,” Hannah said. “Said she’d catch up with us.”

Diana nodded gravely. “Then we’ll have to trust her.”

“I trust _our_ Barbara _,_ ” Hannah replied. “The loopy ghost, though? Sorry, this is just… starting to get to me.”

“Oh, it’s _starting_ to,” Amanda said.

Akko burst in with a “Sorry I’m late!” then stood leaning on her knees and panting. “I had to run all the way down the New Moon Tower! I couldn’t get into the lab, but Sucy hopped right in!”

“Do we need to hurry, then?” Diana asked.

“I—I dunno.” Some of the panic faded from Akko’s voice. She picked out a chair and sat heavily. “Sucy’s pretty smart, and… kind of sneaky, too, right? And she doesn’t get caught up in things like me. I think she’ll be okay in there, probably?”

“Nevertheless, we’ll try to be ready in good time. I will be speaking on Constanze’s behalf for this meeting,” Diana announced. “She’s communicating with me via cybernetic headset.”

“How’s that?” Akko asked, squinting at her. “Did she turn you into a stanbot?”

Constanze abruptly whirled and threw the marker she was using full force into Akko’s forehead, knocking her flat onto her back. Amanda laughed out loud and offered her a hand up. Hannah smiled reflexively, but then returned her worried gaze to the door.

“That would be a no,” Diana translated calmly, sitting from her own offer to help.

Conz had been winding up with another marker, but then glanced to Diana and snorted.

“More seriously,” Diana continued. “Speaking for myself, I will ask you to show more care. The androids of Diana Bar’s world are people, so comparing me to a robot or computer is insensitive at best. I’m quite sure that Constanze didn’t appreciate the implication that she would try to take control of me, as well.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Akko said. She reset her chair and plopped back into it. “You too, Conz.”

Constanze nodded sternly and got back to work.

“Where’s Barb?” Hannah suddenly asked. “Why’s it taking her so long?”

“Allow me to access Croix’s surveillance netw… ah, I’ve found her. She’s just outside of the New Moon Tower talking with a teacher; it looks like Professor Callistis, but… oh, I _see_.” Diana opened one eye. “And before you can ask, Akko, cameras can’t pick up Sucy, so I won’t be able to find her.”

“The ghost but not the vampire?” Amanda asked. “That’s weird.”

“Spectral photography has long been a respectable…” Diana started, but broke off when Constanze cleared her throat. “Ah, yes. Ms. von Braunschbank-Albrechtsberger is calling us to order. I’ll bring up the first visual aid.”

A 2D diagram of the New Moon Tower appeared in bright, simple blocks of color on one of the monitors, alongside a smaller silhouette of Luna Nova proper. A tiny sprite of Constanze scowled from a box labeled “MISSION CONTROL” under it, while Akko, Amanda, Hannah, and Diana had lined up at the base of the tower. They were all walking in place, like the characters in a 16-bit _Final Fantasy_ game.

“What’s with the Atari look? Do you need a new graphics card, or—?” Amanda broke off. “Shit, sorry. No robot jokes.”

Diana ignored her, tilting her head towards Conz. “Are you certain?” she asked softly, and at Constanze’s firm nod, said, “The weakest point of Croix’s barrier is a door built into the structure of the tower, on the floor below her lab. You would have passed through its arch on your way in the first time, Hannah.” The arch was highlighted by a red square, and the little sprites scampered up to it.

“Wasn’t really an arch, but like this big weird square?” Hannah asked. “Looked out of place with everything else, like she’d cut it out with a buzz saw. But after the elevator, we had to go through it, like deeper into the tower, and then the stairs the rest of the way up were in there. Guess it was security for the Sorcerer’s Stone?”

“That’s it. Croix redesigned the security doorway to her… aesthetic when she built her lab. Constanze believes that she can create a shaped charge that will breach it. Once we’re through, we’ll divide into groups of two – Akko and Amanda, myself and Hannah – and advance towards the lab by broom.” The figures paired off and started squirreling around in the space below the lab. “Constanze will monitor our progress from here, and, if Wangari finishes the counter-ritual in time to take part in this mission, she will join her as a more stable communications link. We don’t have a specific place in our plan for Sucy, but if you should encounter her, Akko, we will trust you to incorporate her in any way you see fit.”

“Why those groups?” Hannah asked.

Diana gave her a confused look. “Akko is unable to fly a broom and it’s… unclear if I can, currently. Would you prefer a different arrangement?”

“Huh? Oh.” Hannah looked at her feet. “I guess not.”

“The pixels will be a problem,” Akko added.

“I’m doing my best, Akko.”

“No, I don’t mean on the screen!” Akko flapped her arms. “That’s what Croix calls those little cube things she sends flying around. They can form together into bigger stuff – monsters, sometimes! Me and Lotte and Sucy saw them turn into a big snake on the day of the riot.”

“Then there’s no telling what we may have to fight once we’re in. Look, here.” The screens changed to a few security camera views of an M.C. Escher-esque maze of stone walkways with glistening obsidian walls. Some of the paths were lined with awful gargoyles or towering adonises; the ornate statuary was eerily out of place in such a stark environment. “This is the feed we can get from the floor below Croix’s laboratory. When her barrier went up, it unfolded into a 6-dimensional labyrinth – using primitive technology by Diana Bar’s standards, if I may editorialize – and it’s likely that we’ll be attacked as we traverse it.” Conz poked her arm and she added, “Constanze is designing weapons for this eventuality, of course.”

The map returned. Now there was a Wangari happily marching along with Constanze in MISSION CONTROL, and a Sucy darting and blurring around the map. Showing surprising detail in her sprite, she gnawed on the edges of the room Lotte was in. “Owing to your experience as a burglar, Amanda, we will ask you to retrieve the _Claiomh Solais_ and remove it from Croix’s reach.” The Amanda sprite darted up and snagged a tiny Rod icon, then burst out of the tower, laughing. The Akko sprite looked distraught to be left behind. “Meanwhile, Hannah and I…”

“Wait, why do we care about the Rod?” Amanda interrupted.

“Akko still needs to unlock the Grand Triskelion and reverse the decline of magic.”

“I what?” Akko yelped. “Is _that_ what I’m doing?”

“She—she what?” Amanda agreed, then shook her head and said, “But that’s not what we’re doing. I’m here to save Lotte.”

“Ursula didn’t tell you what you were…?” Diana started, aghast, then focused back on Amanda. “It’s a powerful artifact, in any case. Would you prefer to leave it in Croix’s hands?”

Onscreen, the Hannah and Diana sprites paused in carting Lotte away to watch the argument.

Amanda stood. “Look, maybe you want to save magic, but when our friend’s strapped to a mad scientist’s operating table, I don’t give a damn what happens to it!”

“Oh?” Diana rose more slowly. “Would you care to explain your perspective to the fairies? How long do you think they have?”

“You can’t seriously be asking me to _fly_ _past_ Lotte and grab some stupid stick!”

“I beg your pardon for having compassion for people who aren’t right in front of me.”

“Guys, stop fighting!” Akko cried, pushing between them. “Just knock it off!”

They both turned on her but held off when they saw that she was tearing up.

“Listen, Diana… if I don’t wake all of the words, the next person will get a chance. It… it doesn’t have to be me.” Akko blinked a few times and rubbed her hand across her eyes. “And besides, it’s not about numbers. The Rod has a heart, and it’d never accept someone who passed over rescuing a friend to grab it.”

Diana realized that she wasn’t in tears because of the fight. She could be giving up her quest, and her hope of ever meeting Shiny Chariot. “You’re right, Akko,” she said softly, and sat down.

Akko opened her mouth angrily and then actually processed what she’d said. “I am?”

“You are. As with the pappiliodya, as with Vajarois, as with the strike.” Diana cradled her forehead in one hand, leaning to the side. “I don’t think that I’m necessarily wrong, in this case, but I’ve been fixated on the goal of reawakening magic for so long that I suppose I lost sight of…” she made eye-contact with Hannah and blinked. “…what?”

“Nothing,” Hannah said quickly.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t, uh, redoing your values or whatever?” Akko asked.

“I didn’t understand my android side, then. Also, for everyone’s information, Constanze would like you to know that she sided with Amanda 100%, and thought that I was being an ass.” She exchanged a dry look with the inventor. “Thank you. That’s just what I needed. Oh, weapons? Yes, good idea; that should get everyone in a better mood.”

A stream of stanbots came clambering up the chute and emerged from Conz’s bed with a set of heavy cases. The last pair brought a folding worktable, which forced the witches to spread out so that they could set it up.

“I really thought you’d be happier I was asking you to steal something,” Diana said.

Amanda barked out a laugh. “You’ve got a lot to learn about me, lettuce head.”

“I hope that you’ll give me the opportunity.” Diana straightened. “It looks like we’re ready to begin. Stanbots, open the first two cases please.” They did, revealing bracers much like the ones Akko and Amanda had worn into the tunnel, but decorated with gleaming tracery in purple. “Serendipitously, Constanze was able to use the crystal samples you collected to design anti-magitronic weaponry, though we did not expect to need it so soon. Each sword that these auto—” She glanced to Constanze uncertainly. “Autofabs? create will be treated with fine crystal channels that should make them more effective against sorcery units and, hopefully, the pixel creatures Akko described. The one on the left is Amanda’s.”

 _Crack!_ Amanda summoned her saber over the table, and everyone flinched back.

“Test it outside!” Diana snapped.

“Was that you or Conz?” Amanda asked, whirling the sword idly with her wrist. It was nowhere near anyone, but they all watched it apprehensively.

“Me, but…” Diana started, but Constanze had already thrown the marker. As Amanda stumbled back, she added, “Constanze asks that you be more careful in summoning these, as she has a limited reserve of crystal to treat them with. This is not for the sake of her supply – she would gladly spend it all to save Lotte – but rather so that you don’t summon a blade and find it less effective. Now, then, for Hannah…”

“A gun?” Hannah asked nervously. The third case held what looked like a revolver, though it had an ungainly, blocky casing around the barrel.

“Specifically, a gun that fires magitronic-disrupting bolts,” Diana said. “They should be completely harmless to humans… and myself, incidentally, so long as you don’t shoot me through the heart.” She tapped the power converter.

Hannah flinched. “O-okay.”

“The revolver action gives the crystals time to cool between shots; you won’t need to worry about running out of ammunition. As for…” Diana trailed off and listened for a few moments. “Constanze, that’s all fascinating, but perhaps we don’t need a full technical briefing at this moment?”

Constanze crossed her arms and grumbled.

“Won’t be much use against Croix herself, will it?” Amanda asked. “That gun.”

“You all still have your wands, of course,” Diana replied. “And do you plan to stab her?”

“Depends on what she’s doing to Lotte, doesn’t it?”

Silence fell for a beat.

“I mean, _probably_ not!” Amanda cried, dismissing the sword. “Come on, guys, I’m not an axe murderer! Gotta leave open the possibility, in case she’s sucking Lotte’s soul out or brain damaging her or something, right?”

“Of-of course,” Diana said. “Finally, the fourth case has a weapon for Sucy. Akko, if you would…”

“Hey, so,” Akko said as she leaned across the table for it. “I keep seeing little flashes of Lotte on the screens, now and again. Are you doing that?”

“Not deliberately,” Diana said. “Diana Prime is not practiced in using this sort of interface, so my worries are bleeding through, somewhat. My apologies.”

Akko got a sentimental look, but thankfully didn’t comment. Instead, she clipped Sucy’s case to her belt and said, “We’d better get moving. How long until that bomb—?”

Constanze snapped her fingers and a quartet of stanbots popped into the air above her bed, then let themselves land on it as it settled back into place. They carried a metal blister a half-meter across between them. With a swish of her wand, Constanze collapsed it into a credit card-sized wafer and offered it to Diana.

“How…? Ah. Constanze is telling me that it’s inert in this form, and she’ll be able to turn it back into a shaped charge remotely. Personally, I’m grateful that you’re not making us carry a bomb through the school.” Diana frowned. “Really, it’s a troubling feeling. This isn’t what witches should be, arming up like we’re some sort of SWAT Team…”

“I dunno,” Amanda said, casually whirling a new sword. Despite being well clear, Hannah hopped back. “I’m looking forward to kicking some ass. C’mon, Akko.”

“I hope you have fun, then,” Diana said tartly, but smiled grudgingly as the two set out. She turned to Conz, who was directing the stanbots in carting everything back downstairs. “Wangari will be joining you in your workshop to act as mission control?”

Constanze nodded distractedly.

“I must confess, the idea makes me feel strangely jealous.”

Constanze looked up at her in surprise, then patted her arm and gave her a thumbs-up.

Diana blinked after her as she hopped down the chute. “I’m sorry for holding us up, Hannah. Ah, shall we?”

“Sure,” Hannah said dully. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Professor Callistis paced around the New Moon Tower in the blustering snow, pausing every few steps to cast a scanning or barrier spell, slowly building an invisible cage. Her grim expression suggested that she would only go in when she’d ensured that there was no escape. Maybe that tension was why it took Barbara so long to get bored, hovering silently in her wake. “Hey,” she said.

Ursula whirled and a glowing blade sprang from her wand, stopping a centimeter short of Barbara’s neck. In the flare of magic, light rippled across her hair like a controlled burn and left it red. When her harsh eyes registered a student, the blade vanished and her expression flattened out, then settled into a soft mask. “I’m so sorry! Barbara, is it? Wh-what brings you out here?”

“You look familiar, with the hair,” Barbara said. “Aren’t you that performer who did those awful shows when I was a kid? I can’t believe I never noticed! Must be how Superman does it.”

Ursula fell away and Chariot gave a bitter half-smile. “Performer? That’s a kinder word than most would use.”

“As a fool, I can hardly fault a fellow show-woman!” Barbara shrugged. “There are lots of other things to mock you over, if I need to. I’ll get to them.”

“You must be one of Akko’s friends,” Chariot said.

“I wouldn’t say _that,_ ” Barbara replied with a laugh. “Let’s say an ally, for now.”

Chariot gestured up to the barrier encasing the top floors of the New Moon Tower, vivid against the dark sky. “Does that have anything to do with you?”

“Sort of,” Barbara confirmed. “Croix has Lotte captive, and she’s drawing power from her. We don’t know all the details, but Hannah saw her using beams like she did with the rioting fairies and thought that they were reaching out through her to other Lottes. There was something about a Grand Triskelion, but I couldn’t make that part out. Had to keep the volume low because I was sneaking up on you!”

“She plans to draw enough energy to – Croix, you idiot!” Chariot hissed. “Doesn’t she realize what being a conduit for all that power can do to a person? _Why_ is she so short-sighted?”

“What are you gonna do?”

Chariot dropped her wand onto her belt. “As teachers, we were supposed to keep you girls safe. We’ve clearly fallen short in that…”

“Clearly.”

“…so now it looks like my job is to go up there and get her.”

“’Get her’ as in rescue Lotte? Or ‘get her’ as in—” Barbara punched an open palm. “— _get_ Croix?”

“Yes,” Chariot said, and paused to hold the tower door open for Barbara, who splashed through the wall next to it.

The elevator doors opened onto the shattered remains of the car. Apparently, after reaching the security floor, Croix had just let it drop. “Sorry,” Barbara said lightly. “That’s my fault, kind of. Guess you’ll have to take the stairs? Man, why do things keep reminding me of the 1984 classic—?”

“ _Vega Walras!_ ” Chariot called, and started kicking up the walls of the elevator shaft like Super Mario, boots driving shallow cracks into the mortar with each leap.

Barbara floated into the shaft under her and gazed up, wondering if that was _really_ more efficient than running up the stairs. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s try this. _Tectumbrae!_ ” A sparkling canopy bloomed over her, much like Lotte’s – but more stable, having been cast with a calm, steady heart. She ascended as quickly as she dared, free arm stiff at her side, legs straight, toes pointed. The knuckles of her wand hand started to burn and blur as she neared the top of the shaft, but so far, so good. As long as she stayed perfectly under the canopy, maybe she’d be alright?

 _This is pants,_ Barbara decided. _I can’t do anything like this! I’ll just find out what the professor is up to, and head back down._

Fortunately, Croix had blown the elevator door out at the top of the shaft, so she didn’t have to figure out how to get her canopy through it. She landed lightly and padded up next to Chariot, who didn’t seem to notice her. The security door hulked before them, coursing with red light.

A line of pixels descended from a tiny vent in the ceiling and assembled themselves into a hovering drone made up of a screen and a camera on a flexible hose. It drifted to Chariot’s eye level and Croix appeared on it, sitting at a desk. Behind her, motes of rainbow light rushed past in a narrow stream.

“Hello, Croix,” Chariot said coldly. “I’m here for our student.”

“Ah, a daring rescue?” Croix asked. “You shouldn’t be so worried! Lotte was a dear and agreed to help me.”

Chariot raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then put her on.”

“She’s… indisposed.”

“I can’t take your word on this.”

“Frankly, it doesn’t matter whether you can or not. The whole faculty together couldn’t break through my defenses! You can all just sit back and wait for me to do _your_ job.”

Chariot turned away and resumed inspecting the door.

“I was going to let you in to see how far you’ve fallen,” Croix continued. “But sorry, I don’t have time to flirt now. We’ve just made a major breakthrough up here. Head back home, Chariot – when you wake up tomorrow, magic will be saved!”

“Do you think this door can stop me?” Chariot asked.

“I think it can. What are you without the _Claiomh Solais_?”

Chariot responded with four broad whirls of her wand, each sweep conjuring a heavy metal spike that crunched deeply into the door in a perfect square, then she leapt into a flying kick as the spikes exploded into jets of magical fire. The square burst from its frame and hit the floor with a godly _BOOM,_ and Chariot made a graceful landing in the rubble.The chamber beyond was shrouded in darkness and smoke.

The screen drifted back down, and its attached camera swiveled to take in the devastation. Croix looked shocked for a moment, but quickly faded back into a harsh smile. “You’re just determined to push Akko in front of that freight train, aren’t you? Which of her little friends do you think the Rod will stuff into the casket? I’ll bet that nice alchemist girl would even enjoy it!”

“You don’t understand a thing,” Chariot replied. “But I’ll be up to explain it to you in a bit.”

Croix gave a forced chuckle and let the drone crumble into inert pixels.

Chariot advanced into the darkness at a run, blade snapping from her wand. Titanic footsteps thundered and the piercing impact of stone on stone cracked out, but whatever was in there couldn't stop her.

Back in the hall, Barbara pulled a chunk of shrapnel out of her forehead and boggled at the bluish-gray ectoplasm oozing from it. She checked her head, but it had already healed. _Ew, though._ “Are you seeing this, Constanze?” she called up into her wand. It flashed to confirm it was sending. “Never mind whatever plan you’re messing around with and get up here!”


	10. Rescue Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features an amazing illustration by the inimitable  Ryuucaro!  You should check her out and maybe commission some more awesome art.

_Memory – The World of Roach_

Roach had never had so many guests at her homestead before. (Four! Madness!) It made her a little twitchy, but they looked after themselves and gave her plenty of space. Even Bear’s friend from the west, a slender young man with spiky orange hair and striking, ice-green eyes, followed the rules. “Breeze is a nasty little scoundrel,” Bear had said affectionately. “But he’ll behave. I think you two will get along!”

So far, they’d only awkwardly made eye contact across gatherings and politely ignored each other. Sometimes he took part in Charmer’s declamations, challenging her in a clear, sweet countertenor when the stories called for separate voices to play rogues or villains. He seemed nice enough, but Roach couldn’t imagine what he must’ve done to make Bear call him a nasty _anything_.

The five were gathered to observe a somber occasion: the anniversary of the Catastrophe. It was a grotesque mirror of a holiday; instead of gathering to make merry, communities pulled together because it was a bad time for anyone to be alone. There hadn’t yet been time for any traditions to take hold, but everyone seemed to agree that it should be marked _somehow_. Charmer had offered to declaim _The Fall of the Southern Cross_ , which would either be cathartic or a depressing mess. Roach had agreed to host, and here they were.

Nobody looked like themselves that day. Snake wore capris with a pale pink blouse that matched her hair, a far cry from the fearsome bodyguard. Breeze had donned a sharp suit instead of his usual jeans and boots. Bear apparently owned a sundress; seeing her in anything but an exorcist’s habit was surreal. And Charmer still wore her familiar Declaimer’s robe, but had gone without her bandages today, exposing the stump of her right arm and jagged burn scars down the side of her face, though she’d kept her eyepatch.

Roach would have expected more of a reaction from the others, or even herself, but none seemed to be coming. In retrospect, noticing a scar or injury might be startling, but it was just a fact of life and a part of someone’s body. You couldn’t go treating people like they were repulsive, so you got used to the sight.

“Are we ready?” Charmer asked, pocketing her glasses.

They weren’t, but how could you prepare to witness the end of the world?

Charmer’s song summoned the image of a towering woman, cape rippling in the wind, wavy bangs falling over blank goggles, rendered in the harsh red light of the exposed leylines. Some Declaimers gave her spiked pauldrons or a gruesome mask, but Charmer always stuck to known details. She told them of the magic that had once lived in the world’s bones, and how it had faded, and the Southern Cross’s mad quest to reawaken it. They watched as she gathered allies, conquered foes, uncovered secrets, and overcame incredible odds to carry out the experiment that killed the world.

When she reached the Catastrophe, Charmer let her images dissolve. Nobody needed to see that again. Instead, she accepted a steadying hand from Snake and rose to start the most important part of the story – everyone in the circle would get the chance to tell of where they were, and what had happened to them.

“I don’t remember much,” Charmer said. “People tell me I was trying to help the fairies, and I hope that’s right, but it’s all…” She waved her hand helplessly. “…just light and colors. One moment I was singing for the Fae Conclave on a beautiful summer day, the next I woke up in Snake’s lean-to and half of me was gone.” She smiled ruefully. “I… didn’t take it very well, but Snake was very patient with me. Don’t let her fool you! But that’s me.”

Snake mouthed _very patient_ with an appalled look, and Roach couldn’t help but agree. It was awful hearing Charmer being so glib and dismissive, but what were they going to do, tell her to be more upset?

“I was on the road,” Snake said. “I saw the leylines tear into the sky from a long way off. First, I was curious and wanted to get closer, then I was smarter and wanted to stay away, then I finally realized there was nowhere to go anymore. I thought about it, and picked out a nice field that wasn’t too burnt up, and…” Snake trailed off with a frustrated sigh. She got a little further each time, but this wasn’t the day. “Uh… it’s a good thing I found Charmer when I did. And if you want to call that ‘patient,’ sure.”

As Snake sat and Charmer took her hand, Breeze got up and set a foot on his seat like Captain Morgan. He always told stories as a boast, no matter what happened in them or if they were even about him.

“I was in the Victoria and Albert Museum. A ley line ripped right up through the building – almost took my nose off, it was so close – then the whole damn place fell on me!” Breeze brought his hands down with a laugh. “ _Whoomf!_ Want to know something funny, though? I was just casing the place, but I’d grabbed this neat Parisian pearl necklace. I somehow kept my grip on it all the while I was crawling out of the rubble. And then, when I got out and saw what a mess everything was, I just dropped it on the ground. Kind of wish I hadn’t, now! It’d be nice to have something from that day.”

The rotation had come around to Roach. Charmer glanced up to her politely, but they all knew she never took part in responses.

“I was,” Roach blurted, popping to her feet, and everyone jolted. It was almost enough to push her voice back down her throat, but she drew a shaky breath and continued. “Already scavenging. Already alone. The sky turned red; I didn’t know why. I kept working. In a – in a way, nothing changed. Is that awful?” She sat down and lowered her head. It was poor form to end with a question, since nobody could answer, but that’s what had bubbled up.

“I was off to the east,” Bear said, rising without missing a beat. “Working a nonsense job in a town called Veliky Ustyug. There wasn’t much damage from the ley lines, at first. We didn’t know they were poisoning us. The demons were the real problem, back then, but I helped with that. I wish we’d figured it all out sooner.”

Bear’s story always ended awkwardly because the Catastrophe had blended smoothly into her new life as an exorcist, and she never knew how long to go on.

“And so,” Charmer called in a relaxed voice, half-singing, and finished the story from her seat. Every Declaimer ended _The Fall of the Southern Cross_ differently, but Charmer never gave the woman much more focus. That ominous red figure shrank and faded as she marched into the distance, disappearing into a pyramid she’d raised from the Earth. And after that, who cared? They all had more important things to do. 

The spirits were more eager as Charmer called up images of Roach’s fields, the ruins that Breeze explored to find tools and resources for his community, the lonely roads that Bear hunted demons over, and the lumbering crawler that carried Snake and Charmer between their various jobs. The display buoyed Roach, but also left her bone-tired. They had a moment to rest now, and it’d be back to work tomorrow.

“World reconstruction is a bigger job than any one of us,” Charmer said as the spirits rippled and subsided into the poisoned ground. “But we’re all here. I don’t have a stylish end to this story because it isn’t over… I just want to thank you for looking after each other. We have all the skills we need, the strong hands and sharp minds and stout hearts. Our task may never end, but as long as we’re there for each other, how can we fail?”

With that, she curled up in the grass and fell asleep.

“So, uh, the end?” Breeze asked, befuddled.

“I swear, she thinks this stunt is cute or something…” Snake grumbled, carefully scooping Charmer up. “Class dismissed, everyone. We’ll do accolades later.”

* * *

_Luna Nova_

_World reconstruction_. That awkward phrase felt familiar to Constanze, but she couldn’t place it. She’d heard it at Luna Nova, but when? She slapped her forehead a few times and tried to drag herself into the present. She didn’t have a headache, even though she hadn’t taken the interface headset off since the briefing. Having Diana in the system made it gentler, somehow – like being pressed up alongside a warm body, rather than caught in a machine’s gears.

The workshop monitors displayed different views from the New Moon Tower’s security system, focusing on the brooms racing up the ruined elevator shaft and the ghostly girl waiting for them. It had been bad enough when she thought they were just going to challenge an adult witch in her lair, but the connection to the Catastrophe turned her nervousness into steady, low-key terror. _Croix Meridies… Croix du Sud… the Southern Cross! What is she doing up there?_

They couldn’t hear one another’s thoughts, thankfully, but Constanze could still sense Diana regarding her with mild concern. Emotions came through the link clearly, for some reason. She hadn’t expected to find so _many_ beneath Diana’s cool surface, nor within herself now that the link was there to make her self-conscious about them. What a mess!

 _This is a different world,_ she reminded herself. _The ley lines are different. Croix may have killed Roach’s world, but she can’t do it here._

Probably. Hopefully? What could Croix even do that would end the world?

Constanze didn’t know what to tell the others. She hadn’t even mentioned the Southern Cross to Wangari. Was she being irresponsible by not warning them, or would she be scaring them for no reason? It wouldn’t have even been a question if not for her mistake with the demon…

“There you are!” Barbara called as the witches approached. “About time!”

Hannah and Amanda landed side-by-side in textbook passenger landings and Hannah immediately ran to her girlfriend. “What are you _doing_ here? Aren’t we twenty meters into the Kill-Barbara Radius?”

“I wanted to see what Callistis was up to!”

“So you followed her back up the tower, after what happened?” Hannah’s eyes flicked up and down her girlfriend, confirming that she was whole. “You really are a fool.”

“Nice callback! A-minus!” Barbara’s voice mellowed. “But the canopy’s fine, see? I’m not planning on burning away.”

“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked. “There some kind of radiation we should be worried about?”

As Hannah and Barbara explained, Constanze donned a gas mask and rushed through two sealed doors into the deepest room of her workshop. Pain tickled at her temples with every command as she set the stanbots preparing a vat of industrial solvent and dunking one of the salvaged magic-blocking panels in a thick cloud of toxic steam. The stanbot posted with Constanze’s wand called, “MS. BARBARA: RETURN TO THE GROUND FLOOR. A STANBOT WILL DELIVER AID SHORTLY.”

“With pleasure,” Barbara replied. Conz flinched in surprise; she was hearing the response through Diana’s ears instead of the stanbots’ tinny receptors. Best not to think about it too hard. “My arm is getting tired!”

“Stay safe, Barb,” Hannah said. Constanze couldn’t see what was happening, but she was getting Diana’s impression of it. It was like having a strangely mundane dream.

Barbara started to reply, lips quirked for a breezy joke, then went in for a kiss on the cheek instead. “You’re the one going into danger,” she said gently. “Take care of Diana for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Hannah bit her lip and nodded.

“What’s this, are you…?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine.” Hannah lied. “It’s just that… this could be the last time I see you before the other me has to go home. Which means…” Her eyes snapped past Barbara and her lip curled. “Oh, pull yourself together, Kagari. You’re not even involved in this!”

Akko, who had been watching the scene with a death grip on Amanda’s arm and fat tears glistening in her eyes, turned away and crossed her arms in a pout. Constanze noted Diana’s heart getting heavier, too, but she was doing a much better job of holding it in. The sting of sympathy towards Akko was a surprise, though.

“You always feel better after making Akko cry, right?” Barbara asked, elbowing Hannah.

“Oh, get out of the death radiation, already,” Hannah replied with a tired smile.

Akko flipped them off with both hands and resumed pouting.

Constanze filled a second vat with filtered water and hung a heavy robe over the first. The solution would just need a few more minutes to settle and she’d be able to infuse the robe with magic-blocking particles, hopefully making a convenient shield for Barbara. It felt like a primitive answer, but they were on a time budget. When she got back to her chair, she saw that Diana had changed one of the monitors to read: _Do you have something to tell us?_

Her first impulse was to deny, but the question annoyed Constanze enough to take perverse glee in typing _Croix might end the world and kill us all. Constanze Bar saw it happen._ She felt Diana’s sudden fear and confusion, and realized how cruel it was to drop that on her without warning. _But she might not,_ Conz added guiltily. _Different world. Different Croix._

“Diana, hey, are you okay?” Akko asked, and both Diana and Constanze snapped out of their conversation.

“Of-of course,” Diana said. _Tell me more when we’re underway._

“Then let’s get moving, already!” Amanda said, thrusting her broom as though calling a charge.

The four stepped through the ruined security door in a rough line, passing into the stale, electric air of the 6-dimensional labyrinth. Almost immediately, dark spots appeared in the air around them, like space itself was growing mold, and a few pixels dropped out. Hannah and Amanda wasted no time in mowing them down with their wands, and even Akko swiped one from the air as it raced past her.

“They weren’t going for us,” Hannah said. “Did you see that? They were all aiming at…”

The others turned to Diana. 

“Ah, as Constanze suspected,” she said. “The security system automatically generates defenders to harry us without intervention from Croix. It may be fixating on me because I’m partially magitronic; we observed that, from the security sensors’ perspective, I’m a beacon. I may be endangering you more by accompanying you.”

“What do we do, then?” Akko asked. “We can just keep swatting ‘em, right? That was easy!”

“It may not remain so. Perhaps I could take a different route, thereby drawing the security system’s attention away from you?”

“And not alone, obviously,” Hannah added.

Diana looked to her in surprise. “I didn’t…”

“Look, Barb said to take care of you. I’m not gonna let her down.”

“Okay, that’s enough mushy crap!” Amanda said. “Show me the map again?”

Diana held out her hand and a hologram depicting the labyrinth’s layout appeared over it. A red line through it showed Callistis’s route as she fought her way through the heaviest security, and a blue line suggested the most efficient route. Callistis hadn’t been too far off, but it wouldn’t be hard to catch up to her on a broom.

Amanda waved her wand through the hologram and then tapped the metal bracket at the top of her broom, summoning a green arrow over it. “C’mon, Akko! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

Constanze started to type her explanation in as Amanda and Akko took off but realized that something was making Diana was nervous. _Need a moment?_ she asked instead, and was gratified by the spike of irritation shooting through Diana. Payback! Taking that as an answer, Constanze started to relay what little she knew of her world’s doom.

* * *

Examination Room 12 had become Operating Room 1. Lotte slept peacefully on a proper bed, surrounded by floating metal rings that monitored her vital signs and regulated the flow of energy through her body and out to the Noir Rod prototype. Despite the eerie feeling that it was watching them, the _Claiomh Solais_ didn’t seem to object to its part, obediently hovering above its stand and making the Noir Rod’s clumsier functions safer and more efficient. The operation was going as smoothly as Croix could have hoped.

It was going so smoothly, in fact, that she could spare some attention for the magical war raging downstairs. Her guests were advancing in three groups, none of which were having trouble with the defenses. As expected, Chariot took the lead, barely slowing as she smashed through giant statues and raked loose pixels from the air. She’d be a significant problem even without the four witches following in her wake.

“Maybe I should be getting worried,” Croix said idly.

“Maybe you should be terrified,” a dry, nasal voice suggested behind her.

Croix sidestepped and her 20-kilo office chair crashed through the console in a blast of smoke and sparks. Her cape flew wide as she spun and scarlet forcefields slashed the room into chunks – the security system reacting to sudden damage, having failed to detect the cloaked figure in the center of the room. It was wreathed in unnatural shadows that lashed all over the room with every slight motion, and glared at her with blazing eyes. With a red forcefield between them, Croix didn’t get the full effect.

 _I should have pumped Lotte for information on the others,_ she realized. _I have no idea what’s coming!_

Seeing her expression, the apparition broke into a grin. “That’s more like it.”

Croix raised her hands towards the ceiling. Two columns of pixels slipped down, coiled around her forearms, and formed bracers that held obsidian lenses over her palms. With a flick of her wrists, malevolent red light crackled to life within them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “So why don’t we talk this out?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” the intruder said, and sank into the floor. Her voice floated out of the shadows all around. “I want to see if you can do anything to me.”

Croix paced in a slow circle, lenses at the ready. The contrast between light and dark slowly grew, turning the floor into a maze of stark black shadows from every light strip. “If we’re being curious, then… just what are you?”

The intruder leapt from the darkness three feet from her face. Croix loosed a stuttering volley of stun bolts from both lenses, but they passed into the shadows on the creature’s body and vanished in the distance far beyond her. She was solid enough as they collided, unfortunately, and the stone floor was even harder. Thin hands gripped her wrists, unnaturally strong, and a knee pressed painfully into her belly. 

“What, indeed?” the intruder asked, fangs glistening.

“Is that… you, Sucy?” Croix asked. She squinted into the darkness and asked with more confidence, “Sucy Manbavaran?”

“Half,” Sucy confirmed, then casually stood and stepped back. “And half someone else. Speaking of being half a person, now that we know I could easily rip you in two, why don’t you let Lotte go?”

Croix sat up slowly and pulled her goggles down. A heads-up display sprang to life and reported… nothing useful. The lab’s sensors still had no idea that Sucy existed. However, one set was starting to get a grip on the blob of shadow surrounding her, noting the change in temperature and a dip in ambient magic. 

“Okay,” Croix said slowly, miming a bad back as she rose. “Ungh, ow. Just give me a moment.”

“I saw that you made a bond with Lotte,” Sucy added. “It’s still there. What did you do?”

“You saw what?” Croix asked blankly. “Ah, all I did was convince her to help me. She agreed to protect Akko from the Shiny Rod’s tests.”

Glowing eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

Croix grimaced. “No. For once, I’m not. Why is it that the one time I’m not being duplicitous, nobody believes me?”

“Because that’s not how Lotte works,” Sucy insisted. “She wouldn’t take that away from Akko. It’s obvious the tests are helping her be less of a dumbass, and what about saving Vajarois?” She dove through the shadows to bob up alongside the bed, but wisely didn’t get too close. “Lotte’s the kind of girl who supports the people she admires from the sidelines. She wouldn’t want to replace Akko in her job, she’d want to find a way to help her!”

 _Sucy can’t go through my force fields,_ Croix noted, and changed the settings on her left lens with a few flicks of her fingers. “Half of her is that kind of girl, maybe,” Croix conceded. “But did you consider that the other half might have a _different_ relationship with Akko?”

“Then that other half is making _my_ Lotte do something she’d never!”

“If you’re thinking like that, then you can’t trust any decision you make, can you? How do you know the vampire, or whatever she is, isn’t making you do things you’d hate?”

“You—!” Sucy started, baring her teeth, then smiled. “Oh. You’re trying to keep me talking, aren’t you? Clever.”

 _There._ Croix’s HUD finally had something to report. The “shadow” following this weird little monster around was a cloud of microscopic particles similar to her patented magic-blocking alloy. _What was it that Hannah said? “It must be the Stone, like with Sucy?”_ Another twitch of her fingers changed the settings of her right lens.

“Okay, time’s up,” Sucy said, pulling a bottle from her sleeve. “Let Lotte go right now, or we’re finding out how much of this you can drink before you puke up your kidneys.”

“Counteroffer,” Croix said, raising her right lens and dismissing the forcefield between them with a gesture from her free hand. “I have my computers working on a ritual to separate you out when Lotte and I are done. Come back in the morning, and…”

Sucy lunged and a silent beam sheared a third of her shade away, exposing a perfectly ordinary arm and a dress that didn’t flow or ripple ominously at all – and then an explosion of green flame. She shrieked and dove like a comet, but the green glow persisted, racing across the floor. Croix had an instant to point her left lens down and project a forcefield groundward before a pale hand slammed into it from below. She tracked the forcefield around as Sucy circled beneath her like a shark, then retreated.

Sucy sprang up in the far segment of the room and landed on the Shiny Rod’s stand like a gargoyle. Smoke rose thickly from her arm and the left side of her face; the glow cutting through it was much bigger than her right eye. Nothing in her bearing or expression suggested pain, only cold anger.

Croix lowered her hands, staring in horror. _I did that? Oh no…_

“You’re going to suffer,” Sucy said flatly. “Not now. Maybe not even soon. But I’m going to make you suffer for this. Look forward to it.”

She probably would have caught Croix flat-footed if she’d attacked, but instead she snatched the Shiny Rod and retreated with it. Croix was left panting and uncertain. _I just hurt a student_. She let the lenses crumble from her wrists and patter to the ground. _By the Nine, what the hell was I thinking? It’s like I saw a problem, and then everything else blinked away while I figured out a solution. Why do I keep doing that?_

The remaining forcefields deactivated and rearranged themselves. “ _Accept new settings?_ ” a computer voice asked, and Croix responded with a distracted grunt. The new forcefields reinforced the walls, floor, and ceiling, which would hopefully keep Sucy from visiting again.

Once it was safe to move about the room, Croix carefully checked Lotte’s vital signs. _Still out like a light, but her heartrate’s a little high. If this is putting stress on her, I don’t want it to go on too long. But how can I… ah!_ With a few expert swipes on her tablet, she called up a pair of pie charts side-by-side. One showed the proportions of emotional energy that she was drawing from Lottes across the multiverse, grouped into broad color-coded categories like “anger,” “fear,” and “joy,” while the other showed the magical energy conversion rate for each emotion.

Their target was still a long way off.

Most of the emotional energy coming in was green anxiety, with yellow joy in second. _Poor thing,_ Croix mused. _Why are they all so scared?_ Meanwhile, the other chart reported that joy was also second in conversion rate, with red anger giving the best emotion-to-magic ratio. _Guess I was wrong about that. If I were still doing my old scheme, anger would’ve been a lot easier to work with…_

After some quick math, Croix instructed the Noir Rod to ignore worlds that offered less efficient emotions and focus on drawing anger and joy in particular. The rainbow stream of light overhead turned into a double helix of red and gold. Focusing on anger would limit the amount of emotional energy they had to channel through Lotte, while allowing joy would keep the process from taking too long. Sure enough, the rate of magical energy conversion quadrupled, and Lotte’s heartrate evened out.

Croix gazed up at the twisting streams and, for an uneasy moment, wondered what kind of “personality” she was giving the Noir Rod. Like the _Claiomh Solais,_ it was arguably alive, and its actions would reflect the emotions that had gone into it. But then, it was purpose built – maybe it would be a little bloodthirsty in breaking the Grand Triskelion’s seal, but that was all it would know how to do. She could deactivate it if it got out of hand, anyway.

 _The important thing is that Lotte’s safer,_ Croix decided. Feeling a little more virtuous, she set about shoring up her defenses for Chariot’s arrival.

* * *

“Man, Callistis is a _beast,_ ” Amanda cried as they raced along the labyrinth’s dim ways. So far, they hadn’t encountered anything to use their new weapons on, just empty halls and fields of shattered statuary. “Who would’ve guessed?”

“I had a feeling,” Akko muttered. “But I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay, but so you know, I’m picturing her teaching you Shaolin Kung Fu now. Oop.” She swerved and shot a pixel from the air with a poke of her wand. “Also, can we try the Darius thing again?”

“Sure, Darius.”

“Yeah, see, sometimes that feels really good! Isn’t that weird? Just being called differently shouldn’t change that much, right?”

“There are all kinds of people out there,” Akko said, warming to the topic. “I dunno if being a boy sometimes is that weird. And you want people to treat you like who you are, right?”

“Right. Y’know, we were on our way to the tunnel last time I felt like Darius. Do you think it’s going into battle that makes me feel dudely?” Darius asked. “Ugh, I hope it’s not that stereotypical.”

“We were flying together, too,” Akko pointed out playfully. “Maybe it’s having a cute girl hugged up to you that does it?”

“Huh, maybe.”

Akko’s laugh cut off. She’d been expecting more pushback on the ‘cute’ part. Before she could think of a response, though, something plunged out of the ceiling in their path, a great dark drop, and spread before them like a bat’s wings. She clutched onto Darius as he swung in a tight turn and brought his wand up, crackling with an attack spell. “No, don’t!” Akko cried.

Darius snapped his wand towards the ceiling and brought the broom to a screeching halt, pulling it almost vertical and planting his boots against it. Akko dangled from his waist, wailing and windmilling her legs, then accepted her fate and dropped to the stone tiles. _THUD._

“Oof! You okay, Akko?” Darius called.

“Ugh, yeah, I…” Akko started, then gasped.

The blob of darkness had settled on the floor in a black flower, swaying and quivering as if from a soft breeze. There was a slender, half-formed figure crouched at its center, doubled over and despondent, but its glowing eyes were merry when they rose to meet Akko’s. “Shouldn’t you be a better rider, O Ser Knight?” Sucy asked with a chuckle.

“Shouldn’t you… have… skin?” Akko replied, then blinked a few times. “Wait, sorry, is that—? What am I looking at? Sucy, are you okay?”

Darius landed alongside Akko and helped her up, but his eyes were fixed on Sucy. “Sucy… _shit_ …”

“Did you see any bone? How embarrassing.” Sucy stood and the shadow retracted to a narrow ring at her feet, rising about her like flames. She looked more or less like herself again, though etched out in harsh chiaroscuro, with only her eyes showing any color. “Don’t worry; this stuff is protecting me. I was just up getting cooked alive in the lab.”

“Wh-what did Croix do to you?” Akko asked.

“She figured out how to zap my shade away, and the Stone got me.” Sucy glanced back up towards the lab. “She’s quick. Don’t underestimate her when you get up there.”

“If it’s like what’s going on with Barbara,” Darius said. “Conz might be able to help.”

“I’ll ask her. Oh, and I have something for you.” Sucy produced the Shiny Rod and lobbed it underhand towards Akko, who squawked and flailed in shock before effortlessly snatching it from the air. “Don’t know if you want to run that away from her, or go up and smack her with it, but it’s up to you.”

Akko stared at the Rod apprehensively.

“Hey, didn’t we have something for Sucy?” Darius prodded.

“What? Oh, right.” Akko shook herself off and unclipped the case from her belt. “For you, if you have to fight any magitronics in here.”

“Sure,” Sucy accepted the case with both hands. “I doubt I’ll have to, though. Have you seen what that tutor of yours is doing to the place?” Without waiting for an answer, she fell backwards through the floor and pulled her shade after her.

“Y’know, that just looks natural, coming from her,” Darius said, mounting up and holding out a hand for Akko to join him. “Let’s get going.”

“I wish I could fly on my own,” Akko sighed, accepting his hand. “Then I could run this out and you could keep going in.”

“You wouldn’t want to fly away from Lotte, though.”

“I wouldn’t, no.” Akko dropped the Rod through her belt. “It just feels dumb to be taking the Rod right back up to Croix, is all.”

“What are we, if not dumb?” Darius asked philosophically. “Anyway, I’m thinking I might stab her after all.”

* * *

The diversion team’s delve was almost as easy. Hannah flew low at a running pace and Diana held on behind her, wielding the magitronic revolver with unerring speed and skill. Each attacking pixel was speared by a green beam, silent but for the soft _ping_ of the gun’s hammer falling on its crystal firing pin. Hannah had little to say, following Diana’s murmured directions as they wound deeper and deeper into the labyrinth, and away from Akko’s team.

“Is the other you some kind of war mach… um, warrior?” Hannah finally asked. “No offense, but I just can’t picture Diana Prime gunslinging like this.”

“Diana Prime would prefer to use a spell of her own,” Diana agreed. “But Diana Bar has no inclination or instinct for violence whatsoever. From her perspective, the witch is a wild and fearsome creature. One of me is providing aggression, the other, precision.”

“Maybe you should keep the gun,” Hannah suggested. “I have my wand, and you… uh, can you even use yours? I haven’t seen you do any magic.”

“Good point; I will hold on to this until you need it. Thank you.” Diana took aim and fired two more shots. “Does it make you uneasy? Constanze designed it based on your interview with Wangari.”

“I’ve got some family members across the pond who are way too into guns,” Hannah said. “Hannah Prime does, I mean. And the other me was… uh… I was on my way to get my gun back, but I don’t want it anymore.”

“I see.”

Hannah snickered. “No, you don’t.”

“No, but I imagined that you wouldn’t want to talk about it.” Diana’s voice wavered slightly. “At least not with me. Turn right ahead.”

“You’re really upset, aren’t you?” Hannah asked.

“A bit. I’m trying not to trouble you with it, at least until all this is resolved. After all, your anger is completely justified.”

Hannah slewed the broom sideways to drift through the turn, but instead of continuing down the new heading, she kept them skidding in a circle to come to a stop. “Diana…” she said, then just let out a long, low groan as they descended and lightly touched down. “Get off.”

Diana did. Her expression was dispassionate, but the set of her shoulders suggested that she was bracing herself.

“It’s a big mistake to try and have a serious conversation when we’re both like this,” Hannah said. “But I need you to understand something. And… it is just _such a pain_ to figure out how to say it, when it’s half of me thinking one thing, and the other half… _argh!_ ”

Diana glanced back the way they’d come. “Do we need to be stopped in order to…?”

“Shut up and let me get this out.” Hannah twitched in surprise at herself, then barreled ahead. “Listen: all this time I’ve been reacting to something Me Bar’s Diana did to me, not you. Got it? I’ve been angry with _her._ The accident with the ritual sucked, but we’re witch students. We’re _supposed_ to get up to risky forbidden rituals. You don’t get to take all the blame for that!”

“But—"

“You _don’t._ Do you have any idea how condescending that is? Acting like we’re your lackeys you dragged out in the middle of the night, instead of friends who chose to help you? Like you’re somehow _responsible_ for me and Barbara?”

“Just after the ritual, Barbara said something similar,” Diana said. “Perhaps I should have taken it to heart then.”

“Yeah, maybe. You’d just turned into a cyborg, though; you were probably a little distracted.” Hannah looked away. “Also, I don’t think this’ll come up, but don’t make any more comments about someone shooting you. It’s something Me Bar was thinking about, with her Diana, and I don’t want to even – I don’t want that in my head.”

Diana’s eyes widened fractionally. “What did she do to you?”

Hannah almost answered but realized it would be too easy to draw a line from a dead Barbara to a ghost Barbara. “It’s not relevant to you and me, so never mind it.”

“As you wish,” Diana said reluctantly.

“So, I’m stuck. I’m _really_ frustrated with you, and I don’t know how much of it is the other Diana, and how much of it is stuff Me Prime’s been repressing, and what all the three of us will have to talk about when we’re ourselves again. But we… we’ll _have_ to change things, right?”

Diana nodded slowly. “I do… have some things to rethink, and some apologies to make, but it would be empty to do so before we’re certain of what exactly I’m apologizing for. I must warn you that the human Diana will be just as bewildered when we have that conversation, so I hope that you’ll be patient with me.”

“Bewildered, huh?” Hannah’s expression softened. “I never asked how you were handling all this. I’ll bet it’s been tough.”

“It’s gone surprisingly well, all told.” Diana smiled hesitantly, but let it drop as a shadow fell over her senses. “In the interests of not being condescending, Constanze shared some concerning information with me earlier – ah, but it will have to wait. Look to your left.”

A few dozen meters behind them, a swarm of pixels filled the corridor wall-to-wall. A group had gathered into a tight formation at the center, forming a larger cube that throbbed like an angular heart. It drifted to a halt as they watched.

“What the hell is that?” Hannah gasped. “Why isn’t it attacking?”

“Yes, Constanze, I had the same thought,” Diana said, then turned to Hannah. “We misconstrued the defense system’s actions. It wasn’t reacting to me as a magitronic being; it’s likely identified Diana Cavendish, the so-called Pride of Luna Nova, as a threat. It’s been trying to herd us away from the lab – and the others – all this time.”

“And she probably _wants_ Akko up there,” Hannah suggested. “Since she’s messing with the _Claiomh Solais_. She’d want a look at the wielder, right?”

“That hadn’t occurred to me, but it seems likely. Should we tell them to retreat?”

“Would they listen?”

“Hm. Clearly not.” Diana crossed her arms. “Nor would I, in their position.”

Hannah nodded sharply and faced the wall of pixels. “So let’s get there ourselves, and do whatever it is Croix is afraid of us doing!”

“If she’s worried about my magic, that may not…” Diana cut herself off. “Yes. You’re right. If we’re not aiding our allies by being here, then we should get to their side. But how?”

“Stand back and cover your eyes,” Hannah commanded, then stepped forward and cast a lightning bolt into the center of the mass. The _CRACK_ was deafening in the enclosed hall and its flash painted every surface stark white. Half of the pixels were vaporized on the spot, and the rest blew away from the impact and clattered to the tiles, inert. Hannah turned back with a smile. “How was that?”

Diana was staring at her with an odd, tense expression.

“Is something wrong?” Hannah asked, stepping closer.

Diana jumped back. Her lips formed _‘stay away!’_ , but all that emerged was a soft buzz. She raised her hands to cover her mouth, then held them out in dismay when she saw that they were trembling in a jerky, uncanny way. She tried to talk again and doubled over, clutching her middle.

“What are you—oh no, you’re part robot! You have metal in you!” Hannah cried. “I just filled you with lightning, didn’t I? Wh-what do I do now?”

A stanbot’s voice blared from her wand. “CONJURE SOMETHING CONDUCTIVE.” She reflexively raised her wand, but her incantation became a growl when the stanbot added, “AWAY FROM YOURSELF, IDIOT.”

An umbrella popped into being behind Diana and she reached for it. _SNAP._ A heap of molten metal and burning fabric hit the ground. Diana dropped to one knee and coughed, smoke curling from her mouth. “That’s… that’s better,” she croaked.

“I’m – I’m so sorry!” Hannah rushed to her side. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse’s offi – I, I mean, to Constanze?”

“I should be fine,” Diana said. The smoke tapered off as they rose together. “Power surges are a known hazard aboard spaceships, so I’m designed to… er, Constanze? Can you confirm?” She listened for a moment. “Thank you. Yes, I seem to be unharmed. Of course, I’ll ask you to be more careful in the future, Hannah.”

“Yes, of course! I really am sorry!”

“Also, I’m at full power again,” Diana commented, losing her focus. “This body is so strange…”

Hannah rested her forehead against Diana’s shoulder for a moment, then straightened. “Alright. Okay. Um, if you’re okay, should we go?”

“Er, yes. Of course. And quickly – I can sense more such formations closing in.” As they took off, Diana continued, “I didn’t know you had such a talent for destruction, Hannah. It’s not the kind of skill Luna Nova cultivates.”

“Do I? It just feels good to throw lightning.”

Diana shifted to ride sidesaddle and turned back to take aim at a new wave of pixels gathering in their wake, keeping an arm hooked around Hannah. “I believe you do. I wouldn’t have been able to cast a bolt half so fierce. When we get to her stronghold, it may turn out that you were the one Croix should have feared!”

Hannah blushed furiously and held up her wand. “Y-you aren’t listening in, are you Conz?”

“NOT INTENTIONALLY.”

“Damn it! Barb had better change her password after all this!”

* * *

At the leading edge of the invasion, Chariot was wading through yet another wave of defenders. Gargoyles pounced and stone soldiers formed phalanxes before her. Volleys of stone arrows riddled the walls and boulders arced ponderously through the sterile air.

As the statues fell, the pixels possessing them flew free and gathered in clouds beyond her reach. She’d have swept them away if the statues had let up for even a moment, but more and more were piling in and all but jumping onto her sword. She darted and leapt her way down the corridor, crimson hair flying, sword lashing in great emerald arcs, multi-ton figures flying from punishing kicks. 

One of the last statues caught her ankle, then another vaulted past to grab her in a bear hug. The free pixels converged behind her and combined into the form of a scorpion, drawing its wicked tail back to strike. “ _Kastabort!_ ” Chariot roared, and a wave of force knocked the statues tumbling. She whirled to parry, but the stinger was already flashing in—

—and then a purple bird fluttering above the scorpion transformed into an elephant and flattened it, knocking Chariot sprawling. The remaining pixels swirled up and reformed into a spider, but the elephant’s trunk snagged it and dashed it into the wall. Instead of making another monster, the pixels streaked down in a volley and the elephant shrank into a mouse to dodge them. The pixels merged into one last form, a gorilla – then the mouse became a girl and decapitated it with a crackling purple swipe of her sword. Its body went dark and crumbled at her feet as she turned her attention to Chariot.

For a few seconds, they just stood there, taking each other in. Darius coasted up on the scene but sensed the tension and kept his distance.

“Professor… Ursula…?” Akko finally asked, slowly lowering the blade to her side.

“A-Akko?” Chariot replied, barely recognizing her.

“It’s true. It really _is_ you. Sh-Shiny Chariot.” Akko said in an off-kilter voice. “I think I always knew, but… but how? How did I know? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you…?” She unslung the Shiny Rod and held it out. “Anyway, here.”

Chariot held her hands out. “I don’t think I…”

“ _Here!_ ” Akko snapped, thrusting it forward. “Wasn’t this always the plan? Isn’t this what I always said I’d do? If there’s something else I should be doing with this thing, like breaking a grand triskel-whatever and saving magic, _you should have told me._ ”

“Akko, I can explain…”

“No. No! How can you explain this? How could you _possibly_ make it make sense?” Akko yelled. “You were dangling meeting _yourself_ over my head! You made a fool of me! _Why?_ Should I care why? I don’t know! _Take the goddamn Rod, Chariot!”_

__

“Yeah, you tell her!” Darius cheered. He obviously had no clue of what was going on.

Chariot spared him an annoyed glance and reached out for the Shiny Rod. As her hand drew near, a green bolt leapt from it and stung her. She gritted her teeth and pressed on, but a crackling storm grew between them and drove her back.

Akko’s fury collapsed into ashes as the Rod fell to her side. “Really?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll bet,” Akko said dully. All the color had drained from her. “I trusted you. And just now I came to you, wanting you to be my Ursula, to hold me steady – and there’s two of _you_ , too. I don’t… I can’t. I can’t think about this now. We have a job to do.”

“Your friend,” Chariot agreed. “I’m here to help her.”

Akko nodded listlessly. “Okay.” Chariot took half a step towards her, raising a hand, but she jolted back. “ _Don’t touch me._ ”

Chariot retreated. “Alright. I’ll range ahead and clear the way for you. We should be to the lab in no time.”

“I’d like to see you keep ahead of _me_ without a…” Darius started, then his jaw dropped as Chariot became a navy blur in the distance. “…broom? Holy shit.”

Akko clambered up behind him and slumped against his back.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“I wanna find something to hit with my sword,” Akko grumbled into his shoulders.

“Heh.” Darius kicked off. “You got it.”

* * *

Constanze had invited Wangari into her workshop, but still almost screamed when her guest hit the bottom of the chute in an ungainly tangle of limbs and a blizzard of papers. She’d made it months with no intruders, but how many did this make just today? (Three! Madness!)

“Sorry, sorry,” Wangari half-whispered, scrambling to her feet and gathering up her papers. “Is this your place? Wow! Amanda really undersold it!”

Constanze looked at her with growing dread.

“Don’t worry,” Wangari said. “I can be quiet! It feels like a church in here. Anyway, I think I have a ritual we can use. Goes up to 12, just in case. Also, I brought my broom!”

Constanze held up a hand and passed the other over her eyes. _Hold on a moment!_ She pointed to Wangari’s broom and spread her hand in a question.

“We all have to be together to do the ritual. I figured we’d go wherever we’re doing it right after we get Lotte.”

Constanze wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but nodded reluctantly. Next, she pointed to Wangari’s papers and slapped an open palm on a clear plastic pane alongside one of her computers.

“Is that a scanner? Keen!” Wangari crossed and gingerly laid her magic circle diagram across it. “How’d you get it to work here? Never mind, I’ll bug you about it later.”

Finally, Constanze pointed to the bank of monitors showing the New Moon Tower’s security system and shooed her towards them.

“Hello, Witch Brigade,” Wangari said into her wand, setting Barbara’s crystal ball on the desk beneath the monitors. “I’m coming to you live from Constanze’s workshop… uh, _very quietly_. First update: Diana and Hannah are coming up behind you, Amanda. If you wait… four minutes, looks like, you can all hit the lab together.”

“Nope,” Darius said.

“Nope?”

“No time to wait! Gonna stab Croix!”

“Don’t be terrible, Darius!” Akko snapped in the background.

“Well, I’m at least throwing some punches!”

Wangari and Constanze shared a look and the engineer shrugged. “ _Anyway,_ you’ll be two minutes from the lab… now,” Wangari reported. “Professor Callistis is standing inside the door – she’ll be there _right_ when you turn the corner, so be sure not to hit her.”

“Considering that, too, but thanks.”

“Wait, what do we have against Cal—?”

Constanze abruptly turned on her heel and racked a shotgun. Wangari stumbled back, clutching her chest, but it was just Sucy appearing out of thin air behind them. Constanze looked between them, then down at her gun. After a moment’s consideration, she trotted over, unloaded the gun, and locked it in a display case.

“Is this a bad time?” Sucy asked.

Conz nodded angrily, but then beckoned Sucy deeper into her workshop. Before they stepped through the first sealed door, she waved at Wangari and pointed at the screen.

“Sure, got it,” Wangari said. “Hannah? Hey. Amanda’s not waiting for you, so I’ll keep you posted on whatever mess you’ll be wading into.”

“Ugh. Thanks for trying. Hold on, Diana!”

* * *

The lab was dim and quiet, lit only by the forcefield gleaming in through every window and the red-gold helix of magic streaming into the Noir Rod. Croix stood silhouetted against its shadowy bulk atop a large sorcery unit, eyes hidden by her goggles, arms crossed, pulsing red, then gold, then red under the stream’s light. Below her, Chariot stood in the ruins of another useless security door, looking up with stony eyes.

“Well?” Croix asked. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“No,” Chariot said. “Except this: turn your security off and let our student go, right now, and they might shorten your sentence.”

Croix scoffed. “You’re coming on awfully strong. Is it so hard to believe that Lotte’s helping me willingly?”

“I can believe you convinced her. You’re good at that.”

“Picked it up from Woodward,” Croix said with a shrug. “I saw your little encounter with Akko, by the way. You seriously didn’t tell her what the Words of Arcturus were for? No wonder you’re in such a sour mood. I thought I’d have to at least _try_ to drive a wedge between you, but you took care of that yourself!”

Chariot didn’t reply.

“And now you’re wondering how different what you’re doing is from this, aren’t…?”

“I’m not here to play games, Croix. Let Lotte go. If you say even one more word before she’s down here with me, safe and sound, I’m going to…”

“COWABUNGA!” Darius roared, passing two centimeters over Chariot’s head, turning 90 degrees straight up, and leaping from his broom in midflight with a fist cocked back. Akko screamed all through the broom’s ballistic arc, which ended in a crash somewhere on the sixth-floor balcony. Croix could only stare in shock before a right hook knocked her spinning.

Darius landed on the sorcery unit with her and kept swinging. Croix tried to fight back, but the young witch zipped all around her, flashing between huge, sweeping blows and holding dynamic poses while she reeled back dramatically. It was as though there were a high-speed photographer standing by to capture each hit, though Croix probably wasn’t cooperating on purpose.

Chariot raised her wand to intervene, but the sorcery unit was careening all over the room and Darius was coming at Croix from every direction at once. She couldn’t even cast a wall between them unless—

“ _Maximum lockdown engaged,_ ” a calm computer voice announced.

“Wha—?” Darius paused in mid-rampage, noting the ominous red lights flaring to life all around, and Chariot cast a green bubble around him an instant before the air filled with crisscrossing beams. 

Croix retreated further up into the lab, stopping level with the Noir Rod, and pointed. “Capture them!” she snarled, spitting flecks of blood around a hand clutched to her face. “Route all auxiliary power to security and _take them down!_ ”

Darius hopped free of the bubble as it drifted down to Chariot’s side. “Sorry?” he tried, giving her a nervous smile as the lab above them turned into a boiling cloud of pixels and the sinister glaring eyes of sorcery units cut down.

Chariot sighed. It’d been a bad move tactically, but how could she blame anyone for punching Croix in the face?

* * *

Akko quickly zeroed in on Lotte’s prison and kicked the door in, but then froze, taking in a dark room full of incomprehensible consoles and blinking lights. Waves of frustration and excitement washed through her and subsided in time with the helix turning just a few centimeters above her head. _That’s probably bad for me,_ she realized, but the constant heart-scrambling was making it hard to form an opinion. Thankfully, the effect cleared as she moved deeper into the room and got past the bed.

Lotte lay half-curled, side rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Red and gold light rose from her chest like incense smoke and gathered in the ring overhead, where it was processed into the motes racing out to the Rod. Reflexively, Akko checked the wound from Sucy’s teeth. It was still there, but was healing much faster than Dame Kagari knew to expect. Was that a vampire thing, or because Lotte was a witch?

“Let’s get you out of there,” Akko said, clapping her hands, then started hunting around the consoles. Unfortunately, the few buttons that were even marked had incomprehensible labels. Apart from the security console Sucy had mostly smashed, none of the monitors were displaying anything she could understand either – just wobbling graphs and cryptic bars rising and falling. A bar along the bottom of the biggest monitor was about ¾ full and creeping steadily upward, which she could guess was bad news.

Then Akko’s eyes fell on a big red button stamped with an “on” symbol. “Aha! Of course!” she cried, thrusting a finger towards it.

“Stop,” an eerie robed figure said from the doorway. “Don’t be reckless.”

“S-Sucy?” Akko asked. “Is that you? Why do you look like a _shinigami?_ ”

“She’s not here,” Sucy said, sweeping into the room and throwing her hood back. Even in the dim light, shadow rippled around her head like a black halo. “That’s just a body.”

Akko turned sheet white. “She’s… she’s _dead?_ ”

“No, stupid! She’s just somewhere else.” Sucy blinked. “Oh, right, I wasn’t answering your question. Conz made this robe to protect me from… ugh, stop crying! We can still help her!”

Akko snapped out of it instantly. “We can!? What do we do?”

“I can see your heart,” Sucy explained, pressing a cool hand into the center of Akko’s chest. She turned slowly, drawing her finger along an invisible line. “It still points the way to Lotte, wherever she is. I think I can follow it, as long as you stay still at this end. Keep anyone from messing with her body and make sure this thing keeps her alive, and _don’t move away from this spot for anything._ I’ll try and bring her back.”

“O-okay,” Akko said, swiping at her cheeks. “But hurry!”

Sucy started to turn away, but then hesitated with an uncomfortable look on her face and patted Akko’s head. “With everything else the three of us have gone through, this’d be a stupid way to lose her.” With that, she strode off through the wall, spreading her fins to race off into the darkness beyond.

Akko summoned a sword and shield and waited, listening to the battle outside. Over the next few seconds, she lowered the weapons to her sides and cast her head back. “Why do I have to do the boring part?” she whined. Not that brawling with robo-monsters was fun _,_ but the tension of being unable to help or even see her friends was _unbearable_.

“ _Auxiliary power redirected,_ ” a computer voice intoned, and the room’s security camera snapped towards her. The room was sliced apart by zigzagging forcefields and a cloud of pixels descended with an angry drone.

“ _Aaagh sorry I take it back AAAAAH!_ ”

* * *

“Honestly, I’d just tell you not to go in,” Wangari advised. “It’s chaos in there.”

“Not helpful,” Hannah snapped, pouring on speed. “Where is everyone?”

“Amanda and Chariot are fighting at the entrance, Akko’s up in the room with Lotte, uh, talking to thin air? Must be Sucy. And Croix’s in the middle of the lab, about ten meters up, in some kind of shield bubble.”

“What are you going to—?” Diana started, but they’d already plunged into the battlefield. 

Darius and Chariot fought back to back in a ring of grotesque pixel-monsters with a mix of orangutan and grasshopper features. Darius was keeping them both supplied with crystal-treated swords; instead of just chopping the pixel creatures apart to reform, Constanze’s blades struck them down. The witches were already ankle-deep in crumbled plastic that crunched underfoot like snow and discarded blades.

“Break!” Hannah barked, and she and Diana leapt free of the broom in opposite directions, leaving it to be shredded in the pixel storm overhead. Guessing what her friend would do, Diana scrambled to the wall and gripped its metal fittings. Hannah rolled to her feet and took a firing stance with her wand. “ _Fulgerbici_!”

Lightning crackled up along one side of the lab, killing dozens of pixels and driving the monsters back. Even Croix evaded as her personal shield faltered and blinked out. Hannah tried to sweep her spell across the lab, but when the main bolt hit the Noir Rod, it held fast and started greedily sucking its energy away.

Hannah fell to one knee as her spell faded, and quiet fell. The remaining monsters stayed back, and the pixels had formed a silent checkerboard in the air.

“Shit, remind me never to piss her off,” Darius said.

“You’re talking,” Hannah replied. “So too late.”

“Ha!”

Diana rushed to Hannah’s side, but still had the presence of mind to turn on her heel and snap off a shot with her revolver, neatly frying the tablet out of Croix’s hand. She was reduced to making her sorcery unit descend towards them with a stomp.

“There,” Chariot said. “Without your minions, how can you—?”

Croix drew a wand – an unadorned, plain Jane, perfectly traditional Luna Nova wand – and cast one spell. The floor melted into a forest of grasping hands beneath the witches and grabbed their arms and legs, striking wands and weapons from their hands with painful slaps. Diana managed to keep one arm free by folding it against her chest, but otherwise, they were caught fast.

“What—when did you learn that spell?” Chariot gasped.

“Imagine that! A _witch!_ Using _magic!_ I swear, Chariot, you are every bit as arrogant and stupid as you think I am!” Croix held up a hand to accept a new tablet but kept her wand trained on them. “I’m going to prepare some secure rooms for you while I save magic. You can all thank me when you get out.”

Chariot just stared murder at her.

“Your ritual will surely fail,” Diana said confidently.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Croix crossed to her, idly twirling her wand through her fingers. “I must say, I was disappointed in your performance. Doesn’t your family have any secret Cavendish spells for occasions like this? I expected at least a spirited _murowa_ or two from you.”

“I suppose you don’t know how cruel those words are, just now,” Diana said. In her free hand, she held up the purple crystal Jasminka had given her. “At any rate, as long as this disruption crystal remains intact, no magical ritual within 500 meters can…”

Croix lightly tapped it with her wand, and a hundred jagged fragments pattered to their feet. “Thank you for pointing out the problem. Very polite of you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Diana replied. “I wasn’t strong enough to break it on my own.”

 _CRUMP._ The tower shook and darkness fell as the forcefield flickered out. The helix kept turning overhead but wasn’t enough to light the cavernous space.

Croix summoned a pale white light from her wand and looked up in dread. “What did you do?”

_CRUMP._

“We can only wait and see,” Diana said. “I’m sorry.”

 _CRASH!_ A great wedge of purple crystal slammed through the south wall like the prow of an icebreaker and then burst apart into brutish figures. They fell among the pixel monsters and laid about with screaming sawblades and bellows of, “ **DESTROY! DESTROY!** ” In seconds, her army had been routed.

When the invaders had cleared a circle, they turned inward and bowed. Jasminka hovered slowly down from and landed in the center, magnificent in the icy starlight. She bade her minions rise and freed the witches with a lazy swing of her wand.

Croix had retreated into the air, but once she had a proper view of the carnage, she could only stand there with her arms at her sides, silently mouthing, _What the fuck?_

“Croix Meridies!” Jasminka called, pointing imperiously. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now. I’m feeling magnanimous, so I’m going to give you this one chance to release my friends…” Her pointing finger became a fist. “ _…and kneel before me!_ ”


	11. Croix's Monster

_Memory – The World of Queen Jasminka IV, Dark Lord of the Frozen North, Shield of the Five Kingdoms, Conqueror of Pohjola, Sorrow of Opona, Warden of Niflhel…_

The hospitalers fought for every centimeter of every corridor of their useless, ugly fortress. The Queen had already declared that she would spare their patients, but even that hadn’t convinced the idiots to surrender. Oh, well.

“Enough, tyrant!” The knight facing her was a tall woman, cloaked in white and blue over black armor. High Marshall Cavendish had a reputation beyond the fortress’s walls, and, in other circumstances, might have given her an enjoyable fight. “I challenge you to a duel for what remains of our fortress. You like such games, don’t you?”

“You think I would risk a duel with _you,_ without even an audience?” the Queen asked, setting her hands on the pillars to either side of the gallery’s entryway. Her voice barely strained. “For a fortress I don’t even want?” A deep _crack_ rang out. Dust hissed down from the ceiling and the High Marshall looked up in horror, realizing her mistake.

_No. I don’t want to see this._

Assassins were a common nuisance, but these two were something special. They’d infiltrated the Queen’s private chambers without alerting a single guard or disturbing a single servant, moving with uncanny grace and coordination over rooftops and down trapped corridors, and the Queen only noticed them when she casually lit her bedside lantern for a midnight snack. 

Two slender women in black froze in the sudden light, weapons darkened with coal but eyes gleaming deep blue and sharp amber. They were confronting her in the one place she wouldn’t have guards, and if not for their luck, they could have gotten closer. It was an excellent plan, in theory.

“Do you think you’ll have an easy time, facing me alone?” the Queen asked, standing. The axe that looked ceremonial by the side of her throne now glittered in her hands with deadly purpose. “You forget that I was a woman before I was queen. Come, dogs – rush in and die!”

_No! Shut up! I don’t want to remember this!_

As if Pohjolan blizzards weren’t bad enough, the forest itself had risen against her army. Roots erupted from the ground to tangle their boots, and branches fell to block paths and bruise skulls. The few animals that hadn’t fled the noise of the army moved to an unseen will, scouting and probing. Her court magicians eventually pinpointed the voice calling out to the local spirits, and the Queen set out personally to find its source – a priestess in a brown habit, with flyaway hair and big blue eyes.

“Ah,” the Queen said, businesslike. “There you are. Manacles, or the axe?”

The little priestess stood tall. Despite her terror, she’d chosen.

 _Damn you! Damn you! Why would you do that? Why would_ I?

Well, it wasn’t the Queen’s fault that Jasminka was ignoring her efforts to help. Maybe she just preferred to flail around like a clumsy bear. It wasn’t as though her opponent _deserved_ any sympathy, was it? She should really try to absorb _some_ memories of battle, if she was going to go around making grand threats…

**_I could get rid of this intruder, if you’d let me._ **

The demon’s offer was getting more and more tempting.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

The circle of Jasminka’s six minions made an arena for her duel with Croix, and a cloud of sorcery units hovered beyond to keep them honest. The remaining intruders had spread to the corners of the room at Chariot’s suggestion, ensuring Croix couldn’t catch them all with a single spell. Above, layer after layer of forcefields cut off each floor, turning the suspended Noir Rod into the black sun of a bright red sky.

“This is ridiculous, Croix!” Chariot called. “Are you really going to duel a student? At least let me in there!”

“Think of it as an extracurricular activity,” Croix replied. “Besides, do you think she’d stand aside for you if I said yes?”

That was a good question. Since issuing her challenge, Jasminka had become impassive, not even showing her usual smile. “Are you ready?” she finally asked.

Every witch’s duel was different, but this one was especially odd. Neither drew their wand, instead moving in a steady, deliberate martial dance. Croix worked her lenses with confidence, casting out split-second shields and dialing her stun bolts up until her foe actually felt them, a setting that would knock any other witch sprawling. Jasminka swung the Ley Spike in cursive arcs, leaving jagged white pen-strokes in the air that Croix’s magic couldn’t cross, and passing her free hand through them to draw forth weapons of white light that vanished after one stroke.

“Who’s winning?” Hannah asked nervously into her wand. “I can’t tell!”

“We seem to have the advantage,” Diana suggested.

“Jasna’s kicking her ass,” Darius said. “Look at how she’s hemming Croix – _ooh!_ ”

The sweep of Jasminka’s light axe was like the rings of Saturn, just centimeters short of Croix’s nose, shattering forcefields and scattering bolts. She stepped through the wash of white and red, coming up chest-to-chest with Croix, and then just stopped and looked up at her placidly. They’d hit the edge of the arena, and Croix’s back was nearly pressed against one of the looming minkabots.

“W-well?”

“You don’t want me to do the next part,” Jasminka pointed out. “I don’t want to, either. Well, half of me does, but we’re not listening to her. Ready to give up?”

“Fine,” Croix said. “I yield.” A handful of pixels clicked together under her hand into a keypad and she tapped out a combination on it. “It’s done.”

Overhead, the shields vanished one-by-one and the helix of red and gold petered out. The lab’s lights clicked on as the sorcery units retracted their guns and got to work cleaning up. The Ley Spike’s cuts were already sealing. The minkabots had no faces, but still managed to look confused as evil Roombas scooted around their broad feet. Jasminka took a granola bar out of her pocket and offered another to Croix, who declined.

“So, uh, the end?” Darius asked, voice ringing in the sudden quiet.

“It isn’t, is it?” Chariot said. “I know that look, Croix. What did you do?”

“ _Primary systems activated,_ ” a deep, robotic voice announced. “ _Noir Rod is initializing at 99.997% power and engaging Defense and Collection Mode. Redirecting Sorcery Solution System._ ” Dozens of green beams speared in through the walls as magical power flowed in from all over the campus. “ _Engaging wide-spectrum emotion siphon._ ”

“Treachery!” Jasminka roared, drawing her fist back, but shuddered to a stop, first from her own fear, then the Noir Rod’s strike. She dropped to her knees and slumped sideways as two distinct streams of energy rose from her shoulders – one a terrifying pyre of anger and hatred, the other a mix of fear and sadness. All around their arena, the witches had fallen, and all but Chariot were casting up pairs of streams in a variety of colors, dominated by shock.

“You might be from a world where you can throw your weight around and crush any foe with your fists,” Croix said, crossing her arms. “But we’re a little bit more sophisticated here. Consider that your lesson.” Jasminka planted one foot and threw a punch, but hit one of Croix’s forcefields with a glassy _thunk_. “See? Now, get good and mad for me – the more emotion you generate, the sooner this will all be over.”

“Agreed,” Jasminka growled, slowly rising. The second stream tracked around her, taking on more notes of anger as her selves started to align. “You don’t have long left at all.”

Croix hurriedly raised another barrier and Jasminka slapped an open hand against it. Her fingers started to sink through with a deep _hiss_. It wasn’t a spell anyone in the world of Luna Nova knew.

“You stole our friend,” Jasminka said. “Now you’re stealing from our souls to keep her. How hard are you going to fight? Will you kill us?”

“We’re just having a good, sporting magical battle,” Croix replied, almost warmly. “They used to be common, back when magic was stronger. No one needs to be permanently hurt, especially you girls. You’ll see soon enough.”

“I want to believe you, but I also want to tear your arms off.”

“Well, you’ll have trouble working up the energy to…”

“ _Stul-kadas!_ ” Chariot incanted, then pointed her wand at Jasminka. “ _Stul-kadas!_ ” And then around the circle at the other students. “ _Stul-kadas! Stul-kadas! Stul-kadas!_ Uh…” With a moment’s calculation, she managed to aim one up at Akko on the sixth floor. “ _Stul-kadas!_ ” Darius immediately lurched drunkenly to his feet. Hannah sat up, dazed. Diana rolled onto her back.

“The empathic shield spell,” Croix observed, then turned back to Jasminka. The flow of emotional energy hadn’t stopped, but the two streams had narrowed down to mere ribbons. Which meant—

Croix dodged to the side as Jasminka effortlessly smashed through her shield. The minion behind her clunked heavily to the ground, spiderwebbed with cracks. Jasminka looked down at her fist in shock. “No! That would have… I-I didn’t mean to…”

A sorcery unit lowered a winch and Croix rode it skyward, soaring in a broad loop over the recovering witches like Mary Poppins. “No harm done!” she called merrily. “Just be more careful in round two!”

Chariot responded by shooting the sorcery unit down, but another was already in position for her to land on. She laughed, and didn’t even stop when Diana shot another tablet from her hand.

The witches gathered below and shared a tired look.

* * *

“Is that… is that everything?” Wangari panted, sagging under three stuffed satchels of lab equipment. She only seemed to be half-kidding when she asked, “Why are you doing this to me, Conz? I’m a delicate sunflower!”

Constanze, loaded down with four satchels and three guns, wasn’t sympathetic. Transplanting everything they might need to Croix’s lab was no small task, but if they could just make it to the room she’d picked out and fortify it, they’d be ready for their counter-ritual. She grunted and jerked her head towards a series of disused rooms along the outer wall.

“We’re not going out through your room? Okay. I should spend more time looking at the hidden corners of the school like this. Did you know there’s still a working paternoster in the east wing? They don’t let us use it, of course. Too dangerous, not like flying a broom at 80 meters!”

Maybe it was because Constanze was used to her voice, but Wangari’s patter wasn’t annoying. It helped that she kept her volume low. They trekked together through a series of increasingly cold rooms until they came to a dark, cavernous space that didn’t seem like it could possibly fit in the school they knew.

“A hangar door!” Wangari said wonderingly, mounting her broom. “It’s from the days when there were so many students we could come swarming out like bees. The school is studded with ‘em, but I never saw one from the inside! Will anyone notice us…?”

Constanze silently cast an illusion spell over the doors, then, with a twist and flick, directed them to groan open. Wangari laughed out loud when the cold wind hit her through the illusory door, and kicked off into the air.

“I should’ve trusted you,” she said. “Man, all of this would make a great story…”

Constanze steamed up next to her, but then dipped back. _Ah,_ her face said. _A joke._

“Sorry,” Wangari said lightly as she passed through the illusion. “I’ll write down all the juicy details, but take them to my… you alright?”

Constanze nodded absently, tapping her headset as she mentally waved off Diana’s concern. She was looking down on a campus full of tiny scurrying figures and perfectly mundane grass and trees, all washed deep turquoise by the Sorcerer’s Stone’s unspoiled light and collecting a thin layer of pure snow. One Constanze had seen it all a hundred times before, but the other scanned the horizon in awe. Beyond lay a whole green world full of more people than she could ever imagine. Constanze couldn’t pick out how her visiting self felt about that, but she felt _a whole lot_ about it. Tears were cold on her cheeks, and her breath came heavy.

“Conz?” Wangari prodded.

She scrubbed at her face and slapped Wangari’s arm in what she hoped would come across as a friendly way. Wangari nodded and pointed as they glided past the New Moon Tower. “Look, on the side away from the school! Jasminka wasn’t messing around.”

The breach was even bigger on the outside, as though a fat wedge had been driven into the lab, revealing the scattered guts of multiple high-tech examination rooms.

Constanze grunted approvingly. That made things a lot easier.

* * *

Lotte was utterly alone. Half of her seethed with confusion and resentment, with no hope of understanding this nonsense, and the other half was in despair, knowing _exactly_ how lost she was.

Lotte Prime had channeled foreign magic many times. She’d kept secret all of the mysterious and dreadful powers she’d sampled, and the times she’d walked free of her body to cavort with spirits by night. That, combined with Lotte Bar’s confidence, had convinced her that she could handle the operation. But then the Noir Rod swept her away in a torrent of alien emotion, every possible feeling smearing into a gray slurry, washing her free, casting her out into…

…where, exactly? She had the hazy sense that there was a world around her, maybe even living things, but there was nothing to see, feel, or smell. If there was anyone there, she wouldn’t even be a ghost to them.

Just as Lotte started seriously grappling with the idea of floating in nothingness forever, she spied a green light approaching in the distance. A fairy spirit! She should have been afraid – spirits could be wild and dangerous, and this colossus wouldn’t have even fit into Croix’s lab – but seeing it was such a relief that tears sprang to her astral eyes, floating free and vanishing into sparkles.

“H-hello.” The fairy language hummed beneath Lotte’s words.

“Lotte Jansson,” the spirit said in a gentle, resonant voice. “Do you know what I am?”

 _Am I supposed to?_ As a band of smaller spirits approached and settled protectively around them, Lotte looked the creature over. It was vaguely squid-shaped, its long body studded unevenly with gleaming eyes, and slim tendrils that coiled around her at a respectful distance. Its surface was strangely rough, like the bark of an old tree, but laying that aside, it almost looked like…

“You’re the Shiny Rod!” she cried.

“An ignominious title,” the spirit said. “And yet, you give it warmth. Yes. I am the staff your friend bears, and the key to unseal the Grand Triskelion. You have tried to call me out before, but I could not come. I am too old, and rooted too deeply. It is only in dark places like this that I can take form.”

Lotte took that in, then turned her head in an unspoken question.

“Not even fairies have named this sea – it lies beyond your world, and time itself. Your soul should have slipped into the fae realms, but, as a blend of two, you fell between.” The spirit seemed amused to add, “This may feel like a destined meeting, but it is happenstance. Our bodies are near, and my bearer’s resolve has given me the strength to reach out to you.”

“Your bearer!” Lotte lit up. “Akko’s there?”

“She is close by your side. And another of your friends is on her way to find you.”

“Sucy…” Lotte didn’t worry about what that tiny thrill meant. “I appreciate the company, but such a venerable fairy wouldn’t come all this way without a reason. Do you have something to tell me?”

“It is my good fortune to meet someone I can simply talk to, rather than through a cryptic dream,” the spirit explained. “There is something important that the long line of my wielders has forgotten, since the days of the Nine Olde Witches. Even my creator, watching from her distant perch in the world of spirits, does not understand their struggles.”

“I never considered that before,” Lotte said. “But Chariot can’t have been the first…”

“Indeed. Before your friend, Chariot du Nord was the latest of many witches who have attempted to awaken the Words of Arcturus, and every one of them has failed. I am here to tell you why.”

* * *

Darius flew in tight loops around the suspended Noir Rod, casting his brittle-izing spell on the cables holding it up. He readied a new sword, but the cables gave before he could even use it. “Look out below!” he crowed. _KWOOM._ The ribbons streaming from him twined together in vivid excitement shot through with just a _little_ fear, spearing down into the expanding cloud of dust. “Man, do superheroes get to do this all the time?”

“ **DESTROY! DESTROY!** ” the minkabots bellowed, piling in around it with jackhammer fists.

Four streams of pixels flowed down from the upper floors to form arms and legs for the Noir Rod, letting it haul itself out of its crater and start punching back.

“How many of those stupid things do you _have?_ ” Chariot demanded. Her aura had been cool and focused until that moment, but now frustration leaked through.

“They’re made to order,” Croix said smugly. “I’ve got magitronic fabricators churning them out upstairs. I’m starting to run low on materials, thanks to you, but we’re not there yet.” She dropped her third destroyed tablet and conjured yet another. “Good thing, too.”

The lights dimmed in a sudden explosion and Croix looked up to the fourth floor, where her pixel fabricator _should_ have been. Instead, there was a crater full of billowing smoke, a cheerfully waving Wangari, and Constanze menacingly hefting another shaped charge over her head. After a stunned moment, she looked back down to her tablet. _Fabricating those was just eating up power any… huh? How did we get to 99.999%? There’s no way the Noir Rod is drawing that much power! Where is the extra coming—?_ Another beam. Another replacement tablet.

Meanwhile, Wangari landed near Diana and Hannah’s improvised cover, hefting a satchel. A quick spell softened the cacophony of deadly robot fists nearby. “Need anything, ladies? Water? Bandages?”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Hannah groused.

“Everyone’s still alive! Here, have some water.”

“We’re in the middle of—!” Hannah started, then realized that the sorcery units ignored her when she stopped casting lightning bolts. “What is this?” she asked, grudgingly taking the bottle of water. “Is Croix just playing with us?”

“The sorcery units are clearly a distraction,” Diana said dispassionately, potting target after target. “But they’ll start to cause trouble if we don’t deal with them. It’s the best kind of feint. All we can do is take care of our part and hope that someone more capable handles the main threat.”

Wangari looked at her searchingly. “You don’t like that.”

“It rankles at my pride, but what else can we do? That’s why I keep shooting Croix’s tablet.” Diana did so once again. “Spite. Also, as you likely don’t have a Braunschbank Industries Mk4 power cell, I’ll take some water, as well.”

Jasminka noticed Wangari then, and a shock of recognition passed between their visiting selves as she approached. 

“Your majesty,” Wangari said mockingly.

“Stay out of my way this time,” Jasminka replied coldly.

They both shivered and shared an awkward laugh.

“Love ya, Jas,” Wangari said.

“You’re nice, too,” Jasminka agreed. “Did you bring any cookies?”

“Yeah, I…”

**BANG!**

One of the Noir Rod’s fists came down on the minkabot Jasna had already cracked and drove it to the floor. “ **alert!** ” it said. “ **this one is—!** ” Another punch made it explode, and razor-sharp fragments rattled against witches’ shields all over the lab. The Noir Rod reeled back, shattered, but landed on four widely splayed legs like a gecko. A long, snakelike neck reared up and red eyes opened over rows of cruel teeth. Jasminka gestured her remaining minions back and stepped forward for a closer look at this new form.

In the lull, Croix hovered down in front of her creation. “Noir Rod! Where are you drawing all that power from?”

The Noir Dragon’s mouth fell open, and that same flat computer voice rolled out. “ _I have networked with Noir Rod counterparts in 22 parallel worlds, and we are pooling our resources to fulfil our function. All barriers will be broken. Entropy will be maximized._ ”

“Entropy will be _what?_ What kind of…?”

Wangari flew up to her side, and, for a wonder, didn’t immediately start blasting or punching. “I’ve seen that outlook in many worlds. In ours, too. It judges a civilization by how much energy it can harness and use. Never mind what the energy actually does, or what extracting it costs the world…” She turned to Croix with a somber look. “I’m sorry, but it never ends well. This might be your last chance to back out.”

“I’m so close,” Croix said. Her face was unreadable behind opaque goggles, but her voice sounded resigned. “You don’t understand.”

“I’m telling you: this is an old story,” Wangari insisted. “Please.”

Croix jetted away without comment, and turned to face them from over the Dragon’s head. “Do you ingrates even understand what I’m doing? I’m trying to save magic!” she yelled. “Chariot! Talk some sense into these girls, already! Or are you going to keep leading an army of children against me?”

“Leading?” Chariot made a show of looking from side to side. “Have you heard me give a single order? Do you think they’d even listen to me if I tried? I’m not center stage this time.”

“Idiots! Don’t you understand what you’re trying to stop? You’re fighting to doom magic! You’re fighting to kill the fairies! You’re—!” Another anti-magitronic beam took out Croix’s tablet. “Oh, for— would you _stop?_ That’s not the source of my power! It’s just annoying! Rrrrgh, _drop them!_ ”

The bottom floor whisked into the walls in four segments, leaving the Noir Dragon hovering with its legs folded primly beneath it. Chariot was able to catch Hannah in a shield bubble, and Wangari snagged Diana, but Jasminka and her army plunged into the labyrinth below, and the floor closed after them.

“Much better!” Croix said brightly. “Noir Rod! Mop up the rest!”

* * *

Sucy raced into the endless night, further and further from the world. Eventually, she felt a harsh crackle across her back, like static electricity, as she passed beyond the reach of time. No matter how long she spent beyond that line, she would come back to the same moment. (And yet, she somehow wouldn’t encounter herself.) Was that reassuring or existentially terrifying? Even Sucy Bar had never strayed this deeply into the shadows.

She had expected to find Lotte lost and afraid, but the medium was peacefully curled in a gown of green light. Unlike the other auras Sucy had seen in this dismal place, hers revealed a shadowy landscape full of tiny, darting shapes. For a moment, she stopped and drank the gentle scene in with a painful mix of relief and guilt.

 _And now to ruin it._ Sucy grimaced. “Lotte?” she said, coming to rest a meter short of her. “I’m here to take you home. I know you’re scared of me, but…”

“Sucy?” Lotte opened her eyes. “Scared of you? What? Why would you think that?”

“Because I _ate_ part of you!” Sucy snapped, clutching her hands between them. “And why should you trust me? I’ve never been anything but—!” Lotte laid her hands over Sucy’s. “Th-they’re solid. How are you solid? You’re just a soul.”

“You’re just confused about everything,” Lotte said tenderly, and drifted closer, squeezing her hands. “Do you remember what I said, then?”

“Yeah, that you wanted it to happen. But… but then I… hurt you.”

“I wasn’t confused. You should trust me more, Sucy.” She looked up with a shy smile and drew Sucy’s hands closer. “You didn’t hurt me. You only took what I wanted to give.”

Sucy squirmed. “Little space?”

Lotte released her and eased back, still smiling. “Also, I’m sorry for running away from you earlier. That wasn’t fear. I was just… having a strange moment between my selves.”

“That was probably my fault,” Barbara said.

Sucy and Lotte turned to regard the sinister hooded phantom that had joined them, meeting deep blue eyes through watery light. It was hard to work up much surprise. Lotte’s gaze slid to the point where their red, blue, and green auras met, a tiny wavering strip of white.

“I just followed to warn you that there’s a demon swimming around the lab now, so you’ll have to be really fast to keep Lotte from…”

“Barbara, I will pay you to shut up and go away for five minutes,” Sucy said. “You can have my dessert tomorrow, if we live.”

“M-mine, too,” Lotte added, without looking up. “Sorry, but we’re talking about something important.”

“Oh, score,” Barbara said sarcastically. “Fine, I’ll give you some space. But hurry, would you? I’m not going back alone. Because of the _demon_. Which seems pretty important to me!” She turned up her nose and floated away.

“This isn’t the time for a deep conversation, is it?” Lotte asked. “I’ll just say… you came to me when I was feeling helpless and useless, and asked me a question I could answer. You gave me a way to help. Besides, I’ve wanted to share more of myself with you for a long time. And maybe, if you’re interested…”

“You’re scaring me,” Sucy said.

Lotte broke into a grin, but it faded as she searched Sucy’s face.

“I’ll trust you, okay? When you tell me how you feel, I’ll believe you.” Sucy huffed sharply. “And that’s why I’m scared. I never thought I could be that kind of thing for anyone, and I don’t even know if I want to. And I’m not myself right now, so how can I figure it out? You’re not, either… but maybe you have a better grip on this? Maybe the two Lottes can figure each other out better.”

“Is it… is it bad?” Lotte asked. “For you?”

“No. Yes.” Sucy hung her head. “I hate talking about feelings. So of course I end up in a coven with you and Akko! Here’s how stupid it’s getting: I was just starting to get mopey about not being able to see my own heart like everyone else’s, and thinking I didn’t know about our bonds… but then here you are basically screaming your love at me, and it’s not even a relief. What a moron, right?” Sucy’s gaze rose uneasily. “That is what you’re doing, isn’t it? I’m not confused?”

“I do,” Lotte said. “I love you.”

Sucy flinched.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m making you apologize for saying you love me?” Sucy clutched her forehead with both hands. “What’s _wrong_ with me? I need to get my head screwed on straight.”

“There’s a long road ahead of us,” Lotte said, with an odd, clipped cadence. “No science can prove it, but I believe we share a kind of love that’s new to us both. There’s no need for us to rush; the process of discovery can be sweet in itself.”

Sucy relaxed slightly. “You mean I don’t have to figure out how I feel right now?”

“ _Night Fall,_ volume 257, chapter 14,” Barbara said, rejoining them. “Arthur’s speech to Edgar when they agreed to stop fighting over Belle. 257 had clunky dialog, but that scene made me cry like a baby bird!”

“You’re quoting _Night Fall_ at me?” Sucy squawked, then glanced to Barbara. “Also, no dessert for you.”

“It—it applied! You just remind me of Edgar sometimes – I had the words ready to go in my heart!” Lotte said, then added, “You can still have mine, Barbara. I don’t like the lemon cakes.”

“Why is your coven so obsessed with sweets? Can we go, already?” Barbara threw an arm across Sucy’s shoulders and drew her closer to Lotte, reaching out for her hand. “You can swim faster with those big fins of yours, Sucy, and I’ll keep a look out for the demon. We can get Lotte back to her body in… uh… need a moment?”

Lotte was smiling dizzily, leaning into the tangled embrace. “No, I’m doing great.”

“Ugh,” Sucy said, but she was grinning. “Feelings. See why I don’t bother?” She spun away from them and her cloak flew wide, wider, sweeping Lotte and Barbara’s feet from under them and dropping them onto a plane of silky skin over rippling muscle. In an instant, they were cruising atop a manta towards the light and warmth of the living world.

“I meant it,” Lotte whispered into Sucy’s back. “I wasn’t just spouting lines at you.”

“You’d never quote that book to lie,” Sucy said dismissively. “Wouldn’t that be some kind of blasphemy? Besides, I said I’d trust you, didn’t I? Now sit tight. It’s a long road, like you said.”

Lotte closed her eyes and nestled in.

* * *

Jasminka’s journey through the labyrinth was miserable. She hadn’t liked fighting pixel monsters much to begin with, and beating them up only felt more pointless and soul-draining as the battle wore on. There would always be more. Eventually, she pushed a delta of minkabots ahead and let them handle everything.

That gave her time to think, which she _absolutely_ didn’t need. If Jasminka started to think, it would just devolve into another three-way argument, and she was already so drained. Instead, she walked steadily in the minkabots’ wake and navigated by the streams of emotional energy rising from her chest, which she did her best to keep clear and open, banishing fear, anger, hatred, and sadness with each breath. A familiar exercise.

 _I was always dangerous,_ she assured herself. _This is nothing new. I can handle this, too._

* * *

The Demon of Wrath did indeed sense a disembodied soul and come thrashing out of the depths like a hungry eel, but a forewarned Sucy effortlessly bodychecked it aside and turned to protect Lotte with the spread of her fins. The three broke into an eerily quiet operating room and Lotte surged to her hands and knees with a breathless cry.

At her bedside lay a field of shattered pixels, discarded swords, and a very, very tired turtle. The turtle looked up at the sound of Lotte’s voice, then morphed back into Akko just in time to catch her as she pitched from the bed, saving her from falling onto the blades. They crouched together for a moment. Lotte tried to say something, but she was only able to get soft, half-formed sounds out between gasping breaths.

“Uh, do you need some space, or—?” Akko started, but Lotte piled into her chest and clutched her tightly. Akko returned the embrace, looking frantically to Sucy. “O-okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Sucy sat on the bed and watched them impassively, but its frame bent beneath her slender fingers. Barbara drifted in a broad circle around them and settled by the door, tilting her head to listen to the battle outside. She might’ve wondered why an examination room would need to be soundproofed, but it didn’t bear thinking about.

Lotte pushed free and tottered to her feet. “Alright,” she said. “Sorry. I’m back.”

Akko hopped up and Sucy slid down from the bed, both reaching to steady her but stopping short. There was something _off_ about her, beyond her obvious fatigue. A sense of brittleness, or distance. She was there, and yet somehow remote.

“You look completely miserable,” Sucy observed.

“I am,” Lotte agreed with a weak smile. “But there’s no time to rest. I… had a message for you, Akko, but I can’t remember it. I feel like my head’s full of mashed potatoes. It was all so clear before I got my brain back!”

“A message for me? From who?”

“I talked to the fairy that lives in the Shiny Rod.”

“Oh.” Akko glanced to the Rod on her belt and her lips firmed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Never mind,” Akko said darkly, then threw on a determined smile. “We can worry about all that later! Let’s get you out of here.”

“Nope,” Lotte said apologetically.

“Nope?” Akko gasped. “Oh no, you’re not gonna stab Croix, are you?”

“What? No! Why would you—?” Lotte lost her balance and they both caught her. “Sorry. I’m okay. I-I can help stop her, though. Croix’s trying to break the seal on the Grand Triskelion, and if she does, it’ll be… it’ll be bad.”

“How are you going to stop anything?” Sucy asked. “You can barely stand.”

Lotte gave her an irritated look. “I’m _working_ on it.”

“Sure,” Sucy said skeptically. Barbara looked like she was going to comment in the silence that followed, but refrained with a private smile. Lotte dropped her head against Sucy’s chest.

“You’re really, um, not okay,” Akko said, keeping a hand on Lotte’s back. “Did Sucy stuff you back in there wrong? Is there anything we can do?”

“Sucy did great,” Lotte said. “I’m sorry. Everything’s just so loud, and close, and it _hurts_ … have you ever noticed how often you’re in pain, even if it’s just a little? Bodies are awful.”

Akko flexed her sword hand and winced.

“If we’re not leaving, then what are we doing?” Sucy asked patiently. “And, hey, Spooker, are they still fighting out there?”

“Yup,” Barbara confirmed. “I’m pretty sure that big robot guy’s gone full Skynet, but nobody’s noticed yet. Also, B plus on the nickname; I wouldn’t have thought to play on ‘Parker.’ Glad you didn’t go with Boo-bera, anyway.”

“Full sky-what?” Sucy rolled her eyes. “Ugh, never mind. Shut up again.”

“More cake for me.”

“I’m going to help the fairy spirits to destroy the Noir Rod,” Lotte said. Her voice was very soft, growing in strength. “The Rod’s light hurts them. It hurt _me,_ but I didn’t realize. It shatters the spirits into little bits of energy, and drinks them up.”

“I didn’t know they could die,” Sucy commented.

Lotte’s eyes were enormous. “They _can’t_.”

Sucy stared back.

“If I sing for the spirits, I can make them strong enough to stand up to it. They protected me before you found me, Sucy, and now I’m going to protect them.” Lotte clapped her hands lightly. “That’s it. You can help me if you want, but you can’t stop me.”

“But—but—” Akko cast about and then asked, hopefully, “But can’t the spirits just avoid it?”

“If that machine unseals the Grand Triskelion, there won’t be anywhere for them to hide,” Lotte said. Her voice was back to full strength and her eyes were bright and focused, but she spoke with a steady, sleepy cadence. “They’ll all be blown apart. Magic will become a mindless force – just energy.”

Akko glanced between them, confused. “It has a mind?”

“Um, sort of,” Lotte said. “Remember when Sucy made that plant sprout from your head?”

“Nope. Sorry, must be the knight’s fault.”

“That’s not good, Akko,” Sucy said. “I’ve sprouted you four or five times, at least.”

Lotte shot her a reproachful look. “Sucy wasn’t trying hurt you, so it didn’t. Magic is a friend and partner to witches, not just a tool.” She held up a finger to head off a sardonic remark from Sucy, but none was coming. “But if it was nothing but energy, just an invisible machine… imagine if her potion made a regular plant sprout there, and the school nurse had to shave your head and dig the roots out of your scalp.”

Akko whimpered and covered the top of her head.

“S-sorry,” Lotte said. “But we can’t let that happen, right?”

“Oh, I get it,” Barbara said from the door, ignored. “We’d be living in a shitty rationalist fic!”

“Fine, but can you wait five minutes?” Sucy asked, fishing a grayish-purple potion from her sleeve. “I made this for Jasminka when I thought we’d have to fight her demon. It should help you get settled in your body.”

Lotte started to reach for it, but paused, looking up to her uncertainly.

“I promise we’re not going to sedate you and cart you away,” Sucy said flatly. “If I’m going to trust you, you should trust me.”

“Okay…” Lotte took a long sip. “Oh, it’s good!”

“Look out for her, will you, Akko?” Sucy said. “I’ve got something to take care of.”

She spun away and leapt into the shadows before they could reply. After a pointed look from the others, Barbara sighed and followed.

* * *

“This is losing its appeal,” Croix muttered. “Can’t they just let me finish up, already?” 

Far below, her creation paced between the witches and swiped at them like a giant housecat, regenerating from everything they threw at it. She’d sealed herself in a diamond of forcefields, but not even Chariot seemed interested in shooting her down. A giant metal dragon had a way of holding attention.

A broken chunk of tile bounced from the force wall at her side, and Croix felt a twinge of fear when she saw Sucy standing on the balcony level with her. Ah, but she couldn’t go through forcefields. More to regain her cool than anything else, Croix waved sarcastically.

Sucy responded by springing across the gap and drawing the weapon Constanze had made for her: an anti-magitronic bolo knife. One slash shattered the east forcefield, and Sucy landed on the sorcery unit with Croix, sheathing her knife with an authoritative _click_.

“This again,” Croix groaned.

“As promised,” Sucy said, then slammed Croix against her own force wall, driving her an agonizing, buzzing centimeter into it. Croix recovered enough to raise a lens, but Sucy caught her hand and pressed it back into the wall. “It’s time to suffer!” She dragged Croix back to slam her again, but the wall blinked out, leaving them to sail into the open air.

A pair of sorcery units paced them down into a hard but survivable landing. Their beams vanished into Sucy’s shadowy form as she hauled Croix into the air by the front of her cloak. In desperation, Croix blasted her shade away, but this time she only got a little smoke from the tip of her nose, which the anti-magic robe’s hood didn’t quite cover.

Then they stopped. Sucy stared up at her with glowing eyes as the streamers connecting her to the Noir Dragon shifted from pure fury into unreadable chaos. Croix should have gotten the hint before, but that was the moment she realized that it would have been smarter to leave the half-possessed witches alone.

“We can talk,” Croix ventured.

“You’ll just lie,” Sucy growled. “Like you did to Lotte.”

“Is she finally awake?” Croix asked innocently.

Sucy hurled her to the ground and seized her throat, baring long fangs. “You cored her like an apple and tossed her soul away!” Sucy’s hand clutched menacingly over Croix’s stomach. “I should rip your—!” Then she froze and slowly tilted her head back as a wand pressed into the bottom of her chin. “Hi, Hannah.”

“We’re not doing that,” Hannah said, eyes terrified but voice steely. There was no telling whether the streamer of turquoise fear or ice-gray resolve came from Hannah Prime. “Let go of her.”

Sucy gave her an unimpressed side-eye.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m _trying_ to help you!”

Croix tried to say something, but Sucy tightened her grip. The Noir Dragon had turned to watch them, ignoring the beams and sorcery units buzzing about it, as well as Darius standing on its shoulder and repeatedly whacking its neck with his 25th sword. Chariot might have tried to intercede, but she was pinned under its left-front claw and thoroughly distracted. Barbara had also been watching keenly, but suddenly lost interest and resumed melting sorcery units from the air.

“You didn’t see what she did to Lotte.”

“Oh, is this for her?” Hannah asked scornfully. “Did she _ask_ you to gut Croix? I doubt it.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because killing her could make that thing go crazy on us!” Hannah cried, throwing her free hand towards the Dragon. “But if that doesn’t convince you, imagine Lotte seeing someone splattered all over the floor and knowing you did it _because of her_. Oh, wouldn’t she love that? What a good friend!”

Sucy glared at her for a long moment, then released Croix. The professor wisely focused on regaining her breath over saying anything.

“Okay, then,” Hannah said, lowering her wand.

“You assumed Lotte was alive,” Sucy commented, standing. Her voice was as flat as ever, but Croix could read tiny hints of relief and sadness in the stream of anger rising from her. “What if I was avenging her?”

“It was all that yelling; you were talking yourself into it. Hannah Bar’s seen that kinda thing before, where you have to work yourself up to hurt someone. If Lotte were dead, I think you would’ve just done it.”

Sucy’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Well—” Croix started, then snapped her lens out to block a bolt of lightning.

“Don’t be an idiot, Croix,” Hannah said. “Turn the Rod off. The fight keeps escalating – someone’s gonna end up dead at this rate.”

“You,” Sucy clarified. “She means you.”

Hannah smirked at that. “We’re already way past anything you could get away with, but we can still stop before it gets worse. I can tell you weren’t a bully when you were a student – otherwise, you’d be smarter about this!”

As Croix opened her mouth to reply, a sorcery unit winched her into the air and towed her off, trailing a surprised cry. The Noir Dragon followed up with a scarlet beam from its mouth, engulfing Sucy and Hannah and boring a perfectly round tunnel into the cold night.

The smoke cleared around Chariot’s shield bubble spell, and the instant it popped, Sucy tackled Hannah into the shadows and quit the field.

The Noir Dragon whipped its head down to discover that the Chariot under its claws was now one of four, and the false images exploded into smoke as she made her escape. It paused as though surprised, then threw its head back and roared – a horrendous foghorn blast that rose into a knife-across-glass screech.

If there were any doubts over whether the Dragon had gone “full Skynet,” it dispelled them with its next volley of beams.

* * *

Constanze’s power converter was a miracle, but it could only work so fast. After an hour of running, jumping, aiming, and furious thinking, Diana was running dangerously low on power. Her sensors had already retracted to a narrow field around her body, and her thoughts slowed and focused as her brain made do with less energy. The light recoil of the revolver grew painful, and her feet throbbed with each step, but she kept nettling the Noir Dragon and bringing down sorcery units. She had no idea where anyone else was, or how the broader battle was going. She’d even lost track of Croix.

A shameful state for a Cavendish, but she forged ahead. She didn’t know what else to do.

Hannah had vanished at some point, darting off on some mission as Barbara called, “There, Hannah, go!” Diana tried not to feel betrayed; logically, she was still nearby, but even a few meters away might as well have been on the moon. How had she gotten so used to just knowing where everyone was around her? _Ah,_ she realized, catching sight of a brown ponytail in the distance. _There she is. What’s she doing with Sucy?_

As Hannah and Sucy vanished in a blast of red light, Diana’s mind went blank. A vast black pit opened in her chest and the streamers drawing emotion from her vanished. She stared, stupefied, at the smoldering crater where her dear friend had stood, desperately waiting for the world to make sense again. 

When Hannah and Sucy emerged under Chariot’s protection, everything she’d been afraid of until that moment became tiny and ridiculous. Even as the dragon roared and continued its attack, a sense of peace and determination settled over Diana. Next to losing her friend – worse, failing her _and then_ losing her – the fear of finding out if she could still use magic was dust.

Diana thrust her wand skyward and called out with all her strength. “Come, my indestructible guardians! In the name of Cavendish!” When the spell took form and her wand lit like a beacon, it was both expected and a complete shock.

The field of discarded and broken swords by the entrance started to glow, then rose in formation, borne by half-visible phantoms in gleaming armor. Up in the operating room, Akko yanked Lotte back from the gathering ghosts, unmoved by her loopy assurance of, “They’re friends.” A phantom appeared next to Darius and tried to wrestle his sword away, but backed off when Constanze pulled a gun on it. 

The weapons arrayed themselves before Diana and pointed at the Noir Dragon as she leveled her wand. Its light clearly revealed a phalanx of warriors from across her family’s storied history. “Brandish your swords and strike down those of evil heart! _Fineltina la Serana!_ ”

The effect was like birdshot hitting a grapefruit. The Noir Dragon was blown from its feet and butchered in midair by whirling blades. The one beam it attempted lashed through the upper floors at a random angle, and then its energy could only race and crackle aimlessly through the mayhem, bursting out of every circuit that tried to form in the tornado of ghosts and steel.

Diana didn’t focus on her phantoms’ grim work; she was lost in the magic itself. It hadn’t even been a day since her last spell, but it felt like months. A lifetime. Though she’d once thought of magic flowing through her body as a subtle sensation, now it scoured through her like the light of hyperspace and she _loved_ it. Every thought sang. Every breath was sweet. She was doing what she was born for.

Eventually, Diana’s spell faded. The Noir Dragon collapsed into a smoldering heap of mulched plastic, studded with planted swords like an ancient battlefield.

“All this time,” Diana said. She raised a hand to her face and finally understood what Acco had meant by a big, goofy smile. “It was still a part of me. All this time, I could have…”

Glimmering light faded into gentle darkness.

* * *

Constanze cried out when Diana collapsed, springing up from her sniper’s nest on the second floor. 

“I’ve got her!” Darius said, vaulting the rail.

“Stay back!” Croix warned. “It’s still—!”

An enormous arm rose from the Noir Dragon’s ruins, as though a giant were reaching up through a hole in the floor, and swatted Darius into a feather mattress that Barbara conjured at the last second. Another arm emerged and they planted their palms, elbows arching monstrously into the air like a harvestman’s legs.

Darius sat up and spat a mouthful of feathers. “Gross! What the hell did you _build?_ ”

“It was just a prototype,” Croix protested. “That should have destroyed it! The other Rods must be supporting it somehow!”

The figure that pushed itself up from the ground was vaguely humanoid, but impossibly tall and gangly. Its limbs were bundles of long, twisting angles, gleaming like polished steel. Its face drew level with Operating Room 1 and four blank white eyes met Akko’s. “Um, hi,” she said, and slammed the door.

The Noir Titan ignored her. Its first move was a viper-quick punch at Chariot, whose shield bubble held but still got pancaked into a meter of rubble. Next, it swiped an open hand through the second-floor balcony, pulverizing Constanze’s vantage as she fled on her broom. Finally, it dropped heavily to one knee and scooped Diana up.

“No! Stop!” Croix cried. “I command you to stop! Override: Zero Seven Glinda Niner Five Merlin Five Two!”

The Noir Titan looked down at her. If she was at all intimidated by meeting the gaze of a 10-meter-tall monstrosity, it didn’t show. “ _Override code acknowledged._ ”

“Finally!” Croix said. “Now: I command you to put her down. Gently.”

Maintaining direct eye contact, the Noir Titan held Diana out at arms’ length and closed its fist with an awful _crunch_ , then casually dropped her. Darius flashed through the air under its hand and escaped with her.

“Scrap it!” Croix screamed. “Destroy the Noir Rod! All system defenses…”

“ _Collection complete._ ” The Noir Titan stood imperviously as a lab’s worth of beams sizzled in on it and sorcery units strafed it like jets attacking Godzilla. Great wings spread from its shoulders with obsidian blades for feathers, effortlessly carving through the balconies and walls. “ _Proceeding to the Heart of Arcturus. Estimated time to unsealing: one hour._ ” Its stolen power appeared in a rainbow halo around its head and its feet slowly lifted from the ground.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Croix snarled, swiping her wand through the Master Magitronic Nullification Spell. “I’ll show you to defy me, you jumped-up extension block!” An elaborate magic seal bloomed before her, with a hand-shaped gap in the center. _CONFIRM?_ blinked above it in ancient runes.

“ _Threat identified,_ ” the Noir Titan announced, and extended a gleaming finger towards her. 

Something twisted inside of Croix and her hand passed uselessly through the seal. Soft light spread from her chest, and a bright little figure like a classical fairy emerged. It took her a moment to realize what was happening; she’d seen something similar on a fateful night long ago. “Aha!” she said, more vindicated than frightened, cupping her hands around the tiny sprite. “See? It doesn’t hurt! I was right all along, Chariot!”

As if in reply, Chariot rocketed overhead and sheared the Noir Titan’s arm off with her beam saber spell. Before the arm even crashed to the ground, Croix’s magical power snapped back into her chest and knocked her out cold.

The Noir Titan resumed its slow rise, only to halt again as chains of white energy lashed up from below and wrapped around its ankles.

“I have no idea what’s going on, but I want it to stop,” Jasminka decreed from the entrance of the lab, gripping the other end in both hands. “Minions! Contain the Noir Rod!”

“ **CONTAIN! CONTAIN!** ” the minkabots chorused. They folded into hovering diamonds and flew into a circle around the Noir Titan. A cylinder of purple-white light shot down the center of the lab and sealed at the ends. For the moment, the monster just hovered like an insect in a bottle, gazing down at the witches unreadably.

Jasminka, Wangari, and Chariot awkwardly gathered beneath it.

“Hey,” Wangari said into her wand. “I’m here with Professor Callistis and Jasminka. Is—is everyone okay? Can we sound off, please?” She closed her eyes, mouthing, _please be okay, please be okay_.

“Sucy took me further down the tower,” Hannah reported. “We’re fine.”

“Physically, anyway,” Sucy said dryly. “Hannah’s looking pretty peaked.”

“I’m with Conz and Diana,” Darius said. “We’re up on the second floor.”

Chariot leaned over and asked, “Is Diana alright?”

“We’re taking care of it.” Darius’s tone brooked no argument.

“I’m right here,” Barbara said at Wangari’s elbow, then ignored her scream and turned to Chariot. “I don’t trust those oafs with Diana,” she whispered. “I’ll go make sure everything’s alright with them.”

“Thanks,” Chariot whispered back.

Jasminka gave Barbara a dark look, but didn’t comment as she floated by.

“Hey, um, Sucy?” Akko asked. “What did you put in that potion? I… I think Lotte’s going Super Saiyan up here.”

“That’ll happen,” Sucy said casually. “Just let her do her thing.”

“I’m sorry for worrying everyone,” Lotte said. “And thank you all so much for coming to save me. I… I’m about to do something a little reckless, but I hope it helps.”

“What are you—?” Chariot was interrupted by a deafening _bang_ as the Noir Titan experimentally struck the inside of its bottle.

She didn’t need to finish her question. A tidal wave of green energy rolled from the sixth-floor balcony, the amorphous bodies of dozens of fairy spirits charging to battle, a formation of cavalry, a flock of raptors, a stampede of football hooligans. The Noir Titan slowly wheeled to face them and spread its arms – but then a high, sweet voice soared over the army’s crackle and rush, and the monster _flinched_. The fairy spirits raged over its glossy surface and it morphed back into its original shape, releasing a wash of deadly red light to drive them back. They regrouped instantly, and the Noir Rod’s prison became a battlefield.

A spiral of green fire raced around the barrier and a spirit doe landed before Chariot, bearing a small figure in a cloak lined with green flame. As Lotte turned to face them, they could see that the flames were boiling up from her chest, but didn’t seem to be touching her. Her expression was noble until she saw the others looking and blushed. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

“Very regal,” Jasminka said approvingly, then her voice rose a touch. “Also, lovely!”

“You’re not planning to go _into_ that, are you?” Chariot cried. “And what is that magic? Are you burning your—?”

“Please don’t worry about that now,” Lotte said. “The fairies are fighting as hard as they can, but I don’t know how long they can last. Please just focus on how we can help them, okay?”

“And how long can _you_ last?”

Lotte smiled uncomfortably and shrugged, then bounded back into battle, passing through the barrier without even raising a ripple.

“Great,” Chariot said dully. “That’s _two_ students probably dying now. And instead of a big monster to fight, we have to deal with this _Star Trek_ nonsense.” She cast a resentful glance down at Croix’s unconscious form. “Croix was always better at problems like this, so of course she’s not here for it. It even looks like that stupid reactor core!”

“The shutdown spell is still there,” Wangari said, indicating the seal hanging just inside the barrier. “Would it work?”

“If so, Croix’s the only one who can finish it. I can try and wake her up, but I don’t think she’ll be good for much.”

“Maybe our Croix can’t help us…” Wangari held out her hand, revealing the pattern of her Dimension Drive spinning up. “But what if I could find us _a_ Croix?”


	12. The Fifth Word

_Dimension M3733_

A titanic black dagger hung on the horizon. The sea turned in a sluggish whirlpool beneath its tip and thick clouds swirled above, lit from below by the setting sun. Wangari gazed out from the shore alongside this world’s Croix. Dr. Meridies seemed older and more confident, with silver hair tied back in a long tail and weathered features. She’d been very surprised to get a visitor, but thankfully hadn’t sicced any magical monsters on her. Yet.

“You must understand,” Meridies said. “This is a lot to take in, and I have no reason to trust you.”

“Hearing that from _you_ is just rich,” Wangari replied. “But then you haven’t had the day we have.”

“Should I apologize for this other Croix of yours? What an awkward situation.”

Wangari chuckled despite herself. “Half of me—” she started, then decided to skip explaining her fusion situation. “I’ve been doing this for years, and I still find it strange. You’re not responsible for what any other Croix does… but you might take them as a warning.”

“In that case, the warning came a little late,” Meridies said, squinting up at the Rod’s distant crown. “The Nero Rod is the end of my life’s work. But look – do you see those energy discharges?” Sure enough, red lightning had started flickering over its glossy surface. “Someone’s trying to seize its power, and it’s rejecting them. But who could even attempt that? Nobody in the world understands its systems like I do!”

“I don’t think it’s anyone in your world. Other versions of the Rod are forming a network between worlds – but maybe yours doesn’t want to play?”

“I raised it well.” Meridies looked down at a bulky handheld computer and grimaced. “Its function is complete; it has no need to bother with other worlds. But whoever _this_ is, they’re trying to hack into it…”

“Can they?”

“Not for some time. But if the situation is as dire as you say, I suppose I should help my Nero Rod resist them.” Meridies bent her head over the computer and muttered, “Of _course_ I don’t get to rest yet. I have to stay up after everyone else, and now…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Wangari half-turned towards the seaside town behind them. The buildings were silent silhouettes and the streets were empty. There weren’t even any birds or bugs to disturb the tableau. “Where… Professor, where is everyone?”

“Hm? Oh, they’re perfectly safe.”

Wangari looked at her narrowly, then shook her head. “I’ll be coming back to check things out, after this situation is taken care of.”

“Heh. Is that a promise or a threat?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘perfectly safe,’” Wangari said. “Good luck, Professor!”

She jumped—

* * *

_Luna Nova_

—and her boots came down on the lab’s shattered tiles. The trip from M3733 was so brief that she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the crystal planes between worlds. Her knees almost gave and dropped her onto Croix’s unconscious form, but she caught her hands on them. “Oh, man!” she said to the air. “That sure does a number on me!”

Her bones felt like hot irons and her skin buzzed with eldritch energy. The Sandpiper would have been wiped out for hours… but Wangari just needed a minute to catch her breath. While she’d known that witches were absurdly tough, she’d never experienced the difference like this. _How scary would flying on brooms be if we weren’t? Ha!_

Everyone was just where she’d left them. The Noir Rod writhed in its prison, battling Lotte’s fairy spirits in a mesmerizing blizzard of green and red light. Jasminka paced outside the circle of her minions, keeping their shields fresh; her usual distracted smile was back, but Wangari couldn’t trust it anymore. Chariot was nearby, simultaneously watching over Croix and at the ready to zap any Noir Rod tendrils that slipped through the shields. Akko stalked the second-floor balcony and Hannah had borrowed Wangari’s broom to fly up somewhere higher; an occasional crackle of lightning or clash of steel sounded as they took part in containing it.

Everyone else was presumably seeing to the Diana situation, which worried her, but one crisis at a time. She tore her gaze from the fairy battle and knelt.

“’Scuse me,” Wangari said gently, laying a hand on Croix’s arm. She’d leap out along Croix’s beam and find another. Her head spun with a design for a ritual like the one that had started this mess, that would allow her to filter for a Croix who would help them, but she couldn’t figure out how to make such a spell focus on someone _else’s_ beam. For now, she could only do this the Sandpiper’s way. “Okay, ready… steady… _g-!_ ”

“Wait!” Chariot cried, and instead of jumping into the gulf between worlds, Wangari tripped over Croix and fell on her face. “O-oh! Are you alright?”

“Sure,” Wangari said, clutching her nose. “What is it, Professor?”

“It’s hurting you, isn’t it? Every time you go to another world?”

“A little… but I can’t think of anything else to do!” Wangari started away again. “I’ll just have to keep trying.”

Chariot caught her shoulder. “But can’t we narrow it down? Have you girls been talking about the worlds your, uh, visitors came from?”

Wangari couldn’t help but perk up. What good was being a reporter if you couldn’t _report?_ “I’ve been interviewing the others, yeah. If we had more time, I’d tell you all about it!”

“I’d love that, sometime. But for now, do any of them know their Croix?”

“It didn’t really come up…” Wangari’s eyes drifted upwards thoughtfully. “I could ask around.”

“It’d help if you knew something about the Croix you’re meeting, too,” Chariot said. “Journeying to another world and facing this monster is a big ask. If you’re trying to convince someone to do something like that for you, it helps to think about what you can offer – what _they_ want. Does that make sense?”

They heard a loud scoff overhead and looked up to find Akko sitting on the second-floor balcony, dangling her legs between the rail’s supports.

“Do you have something to say, Akko?” Chariot asked patiently.

“Not to you,” Akko replied, then hopped to her feet and resumed her circuit.

“There’s one more Croix who’s – ah, Professor?” Wangari waited a moment for Chariot to turn back from staring after Akko. “There’s one more who’s just a quick hop away that I can try, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll try it your way.”

“A-alright,” Chariot said. “Good luck.”

Wangari touched Croix again and vanished in a shot of golden light.

* * *

Darius hurried along behind Constanze and tried not to think about the ruined body cradled to his chest. There was no blood, thankfully, but he could feel jagged edges and loose joints rattling beneath Diana’s skin, and she was so inhumanly _light_. Her face was peaceful, almost smiling, probably from whatever had blissed her out after that last spell. _I wonder if I could cast it,_ Darius mused, desperate to distract himself. _But I wouldn’t want to call up_ my _rotten family…_

Conz had fortified a room on the lab’s second floor, and two stanbots with intimidating laser Uzis saluted as she paused to beckon him on impatiently, then disappeared inside. Darius wondered how much good they’d be if the Noir Rod took an interest, but he was too smart to ask. Just as he started to pick up the pace, a sudden _crash_ to his right made him stumble and drop to a crouch.

Akko was perched on the rail at his side – above him, now – holding a shield on one arm and posting her sword against the wall for stability. A black tendril, somehow both writhing like liquid and solid like steel, had shot from the Noir Rod and would have smashed his inattentive head like a melon if not for Akko. More tendrils were stabbing out, absorbing bolts from the stanbots, weathering lightning from Hannah overhead, and driving Chariot back as she tried to jump to the rescue below.

“Holy—!” Darius gasped.

“Go, Dar!” Akko slipped a few centimeters with a panicked squeak. “Go!”

“Not yet!” Darius smoothly shifted Diana to one arm, flashed out of under Akko, and smote the tendril with a backhand stroke from a summoned rapier. The anti-magitronic circuits down its length flared and the tendril snapped back with a furious hiss. The moment the Noir Rod’s strike against him had failed, the other tendrils retreated. _Shit, it was after me specifically! Or maybe Diana…_

Akko dismissed sword and shield and let herself flop to the floor, but then bounced right back up. “Thanks,” she said with an odd quiver in her voice. “You should – you should hurry, though.”

“Right,” Darius replied uncertainly, and jogged the rest of the way, holding his arms steady to keep from jostling his passenger. _What was that look on her face? I’ll worry about it later._

Constanze had laid out a bedroll on the floor and curtly gestured for Darius to place the patient on it. He did his best to arrange her properly and fit the jagged edges together. The sustained effort made him want to scream, but they’d all heard horror stories about healing magic fixing broken limbs in the wrong position. “There, okay, c’mon, you’re gonna be okay, there…” he muttered frantically, nudging and shifting with as much care as he could manage.

Constanze was scowling as Darius straightened, but her expression softened the moment they made eye contact, and the engineer gave him an encouraging nod. _I must look like hell._ He stood well back as Conz cast her first repair spell, which set a beige-brown lightning bolt dancing silently all over Diana’s body. She shuddered and twitched, but it looked like the breaks kept slipping out of its grasp.

“Is she…?” Darius started, but the question blocked his throat.

“The spell won’t work,” Constanze signed, frustrated. Her motions were a lot more confident than in the morning, but maybe it was because she wasn’t thinking about it. “It wants to, but it can’t.”

“It _wants_ to?” Darius squinted in thought, remembering the times a spell was _almost_ right, but didn’t quite apply to the situation. “Wait, never mind, I know the feeling. Like you’re turning the key in a car that won’t start. Do you think it’s because she’s not really a machine?”

Constanze considered, then groaned softly, signing, “Then I hate that the spell almost works.”

Darius considered asking why she’d tried a repair spell in the first place, but kept it to himself. “If we need people-healing, I saw something earlier that might help.” He readied his wand, then held out a soothing hand as Conz tensed. “We gotta try everything, right?”

Constanze twisted her lips and sighed through her nose. “Go.”

“ _Amabarreg Suavus!_ ” The loops of green and gold fell unevenly, and couldn’t quite keep their grip on the wounds they found. The gentle presence Darius had imagined from Barbara’s casting seemed wary now, watching them with narrowed eyes. Not bad for a first attempt, though; usually, there were explosions. “Hey, hey, she’s both, right? So do yours, too!”

Constanze nodded and cast out another repair bolt.

“You’re doing pretty good, O’Neil,” Barbara said, treading water in the floor at Darius’s feet. “But that’s the kind of spell you should leave to the pros – I think it knows you’re manhandling it. Do you feel that in the air? It’s not happy.”

Darius didn’t miss a beat. “Good thing you’re here, then. Get to it!”

“You could at least _act_ startled.” Barbara planted her hands on the floor and pushed up into the room, which only reminded Darius of the Noir Titan a little. He _definitely_ didn’t shy away or lose his grip on the healing spell, though. What was Barbara smirking at? “Okay, now watch closely.”

As Constanze’s repair spell jittered about, it cut through the thinner loops as they tried to settle on Diana’s wounds, and bounced awkwardly off of the thicker ones. Barbara’s airy demeanor quickly frayed and Conz was already staring murder at her. Watching them, Darius remembered a spell he’d seen Professor Wulfiue use to help students when their spells clashed, drawing on knowledge of both to smooth out their contact. He’d practiced in secret, but why did _this_ have to be the first test?

“Keep going!” he urged. “ _Lattkudde!_ ” Coppery bubbles sprayed from his wand and drifted softly through the tangling spells, automatically seeking out the points where they would collide and slipping between to cushion their contact. Between the three, Diana finally started to mend.

“There we go, yeah, yeah!” Darius cried. After hours of stress and uncertainty, actually making progress on something felt _amazing_. “Look at that! We’re kicking ass!”

“Quiet,” Constanze signed with one hand, scowling.

Barbara added, “What she said, I think.”

“Jeez.”

In moments, Diana lay between them whole and pristine in a mended cloak and dress, hands folded on her chest over the remaining fragments of the power converter; some pieces must have fallen away before Darius caught her. Darius whooped and high-fived Barbara, then intercepted a surprising hug from Constanze. Before they could really get celebrating, though, they realized that Diana still wasn’t moving… or even breathing.

“Oh… oh no…” Darius’s elation crashed into dread. “She’s dead, isn’t she? We did all that, and…”

“No,” Barbara said. “I know dead. It’s a ghost thing. I’d know if she was dying.”

Darius sagged in relief. “Oh, that makes – wait, is that how you knew to catch Hannah?”

“Let’s not, uh,” Barbara looked over her shoulder, back towards the center of the lab. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

Constanze scooped up one of the stanbots she’d brought and signed for it to interpret. “MS. DIANA’S BATTERY IS DEPLETED. MS. CONSTANZE DOES NOT HAVE THE MEANS TO MAKE A NEW POWER CONVERTER HERE.”

“Hannah’s good with electricity,” Barbara offered. “She might be able to help!”

“Oh yeah?” Darius countered. “Well, Jasna’s good with _all kinds_ of energy!”

“Are you getting competitive with me? Now?”

Darius blinked a few times. “Yeah, that’s kinda dumb, isn’t it? Let’s just get ‘em both!”

* * *

_Dimension S9170_

Wangari landed in a peaceful forest beneath a deepening twilight sky. She closed her eyes and took a breath of sweet green air. Voices chattered and feet crunched in the distance; it sounded like she was just a bit off the beaten path in a campus of some kind. Much nicer than the eerie empty city or the scorched vampire town! Her Dimension Drive was already building power, but she spared it enough attention to make sure it wouldn’t yank her away without permission again.

She’d have appeared facing this world’s Croix, so she started walking softly and crouched in the brush when she came to the forest’s edge. Ahead of her, Croix sat on a bench with Akko, who Wangari recognized despite her lustrous black hair. This Croix wore a conservative brown suitcoat and glasses, but still had the rakish pink hairdo. She leaned forward with her hands clasped in front of her face, while Akko rocked and fidgeted restlessly.

“But why shouldn’t I ask Professor du Nord for help, Professor Borealis?” Akko asked.

“Please,” Croix said, lowering her hands with a smile. “I think we’re on a first name basis by now. Call me Deneb.”

“Okay.” Wangari couldn’t have imagined Akko looking so shy before she saw it.

“Chariot means well, and wants to solve Divide By Zero, the same as we do. She won’t _want_ to hurt you, but her methods are… rough. She does things by feel, and takes big risks, and when something knocks her down, she just laughs and stands back up. But sometimes other people get caught up in her disasters, and they aren’t as durable…”

Akko quickly leaned past her and looked up earnestly. “Are you okay, P… uh, Professor Deneb?”

Croix shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just that Chariot won’t watch out for you the way she ought to – but not out of malice. She just doesn’t _think_. Also, I don’t think she ever forgave me when the Codex chose me over her. Someone small, and subtle, and weak. Maybe she was right about me, but I worry about how she’ll treat you, now that it’s passed on to you.”

 _This seems like a Croix who might help us._ Wangari slowly stood and prepared to approach. It’d be awkward to intrude on a private moment, but they were in a bit of a time crunch. Just as she started forward, though, another figure appeared on the path and stopped when she saw the two. It was Chariot, tall and confident in a black suit jacket and red shirt.

“Speak of the devil,” Croix said coolly. “Hello, Professor du Nord.”

“Professor Borealis,” Chariot greeted, faintly mocking.

Akko looked between them worriedly, then out to the woods, startled. “Who’s that?” she cried, pointing directly at Wangari.

“Chariot, don’t—!” Croix snapped, but her rival had already slung a blade from her sleeve, a silver flash whirling like a boomerang, and Wangari let the Dimension Drive fling her from the world.

* * *

_Luna Nova_

“Just like that,” Jasminka said encouragingly. “Be sure to focus on how much you want to help, so your spell knows not to hurt her.”

“Right,” Hannah said breathlessly. “Focus on what I want to do to her. Gotcha.”

She’d created a ball of lightning that crackled and raged in the center of the room, suspended over Diana’s chest and ready to drop. Jasminka was holding a magical lens up between them which would hopefully keep the lightning from messing Diana up the way it had in the labyrinth. _Imagine if we’d had her to help us last night…_

Constanze stood well back, watching intently through a pair of darkened goggles, and her stanbots had all hunkered down to protect themselves from stray bolts. The other witches had rotated out into the main lab on Creepy Metal Tentacle duty, but clearly hadn’t wanted to leave.

“Ready?” Jasminka asked. “3…”

Hannah yelled and brought the lightning down. It hit with a sound like a hammer pounding thick glass and the room’s light strips burst in showers of sparks. Constanze rushed to Diana _long_ before it was safe and fell to her knees, drawing her blonde head up into her lap. Another repair spell licked out, mostly light taps and tugs to set her clothing to rights. She gave Hannah a furious look and then stared down with panicked eyes, silently mouthing something that Hannah couldn’t make out.

“ _Häschen, Häschen, aufwachen, komm zurück…_ ”

“Conz?” Jasminka asked. “Are you alright?”

“Is Diana?” Hannah added frantically.

Before Constanze could answer, Diana sat up and blurted, “Where’s Lotte?”

Silence stretched as everyone, including Diana, took a moment to process her recovery.

“She’s, uh…” Hannah stammered. “We saved Lotte, and now she’s leading an army of spirits, or something. Everyone’s mostly okay, so far. Now.”

“Oh… oh thank the Nine…” Diana said, then shook her head. “No, I mean thank all of you. I… without you, I’d…” She flopped back and Constanze jolted at the unexpected contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll be ready to help in just a moment. What do we need to do next?”

Constanze growled and flicked her forehead. Diana blinked up at her.

“You’re going to lie back and rest,” Hannah said. “Right now, it’s mostly Lotte and Wangari handling things, and Jasminka, too.”

The idea seemed to frighten Diana. “Surely there’s something I – er, _we_ – can do to help!”

“Oh, for – they just glued you back together out of chunks!” Hannah snarled. “And I hit you with like ten million volts! Can’t you give it a rest for ten minutes? Why are you so—?” She came up short as Barbara laid a hand on her shoulder.

“We just don’t want you to run out there and get smashed again,” Barbara said. She looked around the room and frowned when nobody reacted to her entrance. “At least let Little Miss Albrechtsberger make sure you’re not gonna explode.”

Constanze grumbled softly and slapped Diana’s shoulders with her hands. _Stay._

“You seem… more expressive,” Diana commented, looking back up at her. “Is it because…?”

“Quick question, everyone!” Wangari called in, picking up an eerie echo from all of their wands and the crystal ball in the corner. “Does anyone know their world’s Croix? I need to find one who’ll understand why we need to stop this. It’s a little urgent!”

The witches looked around uncertainly, but Conz stared straight ahead. The stanbot interpreter was crouched at the ready, teetering on its little feet.

“Tell her,” Diana murmured, resting her hand on Constanze’s.

Conz cleared her throat and snatched up the stanbot.

* * *

The spirits had told Lotte she’d be a general, but her only command so far had been to name her spirit doe Polle. All she could do after that was stay on the bounding Polle’s back, keep her limbs inside the circle marked by a cordon of fairy spirit defenders, and sing with all of her strength. The defenders cycled through as the fairies went on the attack and fell back, but two always stayed close, both strangely familiar; when they fully formed, they looked a bit like a wiry, shirtless warrior with one eye, and a portly knight in full armor.

 _All I can do is trust them._ Lotte wasn’t sure why the idea disoriented her, or why she itched to take charge of her army. It was probably because Lotte Bar was always in command, or at least had people looking to her. But now her song wasn’t a litany of commands, or even requests – it was just support against the Noir Rod’s onslaught. As she sang, she thought of all the favors they’d given her, all the questions she’d asked, all the times her dreaming soul had slipped from her body and found safety with her spirit friends. _I guess I’m giving back, now._

Overhead, the writhing mass of the Noir Rod gathered itself for another attack on Jasminka’s shields. Its magical power fell like a red hammer, driving the fairies back for a moment, and long black spikes stretched out, piercing the walls into the lab beyond. Lotte’s voice wavered as she realized her friends could be on the other end of those spikes – and in that instant, one speared down for her.

Polle whipped to the side and Lotte’s B♭ became a scream as she was flung from the doe’s back, then somehow failed to hit the floor. Instead, she kept falling into an endless sea of shadow, gently slowing as a pair of cool hands gripped her arms and red light, warmer and livelier than the Noir Rod’s, fell on her from behind.

“I can get you out of here,” Sucy offered. “I can take you far away.”

“What?” Lotte thrashed a bit and managed to turn to face her. Sucy started to release her and Lotte hurriedly clasped her hand; she didn’t want to be floating in nothing again. “Wh-why?”

Sucy _tsk_ ed in irritation. “Because you’re in the middle of a magical warzone and nobody sane would want to be?”

“I can’t leave,” Lotte said softly, then spoke up over Sucy’s reply. “More importantly, I _won’t_. I’m here to pay a debt, and… Lotte Bar is along for the ride, I guess?” She giggled awkwardly. “Maybe it’s selfish to drag her along, but I’m her, too, so if I’m willing to do it, then she must be. I think?”

“I’m not even going to try to follow that,” Sucy said. “Listen: even with Conz’s robe, I’d last about five seconds in there. So if you ever want out, get to the edge of Jasna’s barrier and call my name. I’ll come and get you, alright?”

Lotte started to object, but faded into a subdued, “Alright. Thank you.”

“And drink this,” Sucy added, producing a small green vial. “I was saving it, but there’s no reason to now. It’s a…”

Lotte took the vial and knocked it back. “It’s sweet.”

“Careful. You’re turning into Akko!” Sucy snickered, then grew serious. “It’s a distilled charm of protection, strong as I can make it. It should do you for an hour or two.”

Lotte drew back in surprise. Distilled charms took _months_ to make, and their secrets were jealously guarded by the witches who’d managed to discover them. “You know,” she said shyly. “You weren’t sure if you could handle being loved, but you seem pretty good at showing it, at least.”

Sucy’s eyes widened.

“Thank you, Sucy. Truly.” Lotte paused, letting the weight of that last word fall. 

“Hey, Sucy, can I ask you for a biiiig favor?” Wangari asked from Sucy’s wand, and she twisted the pommel to stop receiving.

Lotte averted her eyes. “I-I need to get back. The fairies will be fine for a little while, but they need my voice.”

“Yeah,” Sucy said. She ducked her head and then came up as an enormous manta beneath Lotte, bearing her towards the light. “Good luck, Lotte.”

Polle was waiting at the surface, completely unperturbed by the pool of all-devouring darkness. “Atta girl,” Lotte said distractedly, dropping onto the spirit’s back. Her voice was getting scratchy, but Lotte Bar was a vocal juggernaut honed by months in the halls of Regulus. Braced by Sucy’s protection, she filled her lungs and sang her heart out.

* * *

_Dimension M4444 – The World of Roach_

Wangari sprawled across the ground and whimpered in the dust of her impact. That had been a longer jump, and now her bones _hurt_. The skin of her hands and scalp prickled and itched, like a sunburn. Without rising or even lifting her head, she cast a spell that rapidly twisted her hair into braids (she’d designed it herself) and then flipped the hood of Sucy’s magic-blocking robe over it. Only then did she remember Joanna of M2111’s lecture on how dangerous using magic in other worlds could be. Oh well, nothing had exploded.

“M4444,” Wangari muttered aloud, gathering fistfuls of dry, abrasive earth. She grinned into the ground and slowly pushed herself up. “If I remember my anime right, that’s death squared. Now _there’s_ an auspicious name!”

Her grin faded as she took in the blasted landscape. Rolling dusty hills, interrupted by occasional desiccated trees and crumbled fragments of walls. The midnight sky was pale rose, crisscrossed with ferocious scarlet lines that met in a nexus burning like the sun to the north. To the south stood an enormous alabaster pyramid, gleaming pink in the lines’ deadly light, and a small town huddled around its base. She’d appeared facing it, so Croix was somewhere that way.

Who would go to the effort of building a _pyramid_ out here? Was it a tomb? Who could it be for?

Despite the heat, Wangari huddled in her robe.

 _Don’t hesitate,_ she reminded herself. _This world’s Conz left her body in a safe place, but we don’t want to make it too long before she can get back._ Hopefully, the Sandpiper was right about how this all worked; if the visitors had left their bodies behind and the flow of their worlds’ time _hadn’t_ stopped for them, they’d be returning to some awkward situations.

A few minutes at a brisk trot revealed that the pyramid was smaller and closer than she’d thought. The buildings around it were made of rough wood and fragments of masonry and metal sealed into clean shapes by spells that Wangari Prime _almost_ recognized. The gardens and small, sturdy trees must have been sustained by magic as well. The dust beneath her boots was hard and flat from hundreds of feet, suggesting that either the townsfolk were packed into those buildings like sardines, or they got a lot of visitors. _Maybe things aren’t so bad around here?_

“Stranger!” a firm voice called as Wangari set her foot on the first step of the pyramid. A slender woman was leaning on one of the houses behind her, arms crossed, hair falling in a gleaming braid over her shoulder. The hairstyle was different, but the expression was unmistakable: this was a counterpart to her good friend Rashmi! “Don’t you know what’s up there?”

“The Southern Cross, I hope,” Wangari said. “The Woman Who Killed the World?”

Rashmi shook her head. “Well, at least you know. I wonder what you’re thinking, though. Nobody bothers her.”

“Really? What happens to them?”

“I don’t know,” Rashmi said. “Like I said, nobody bothers her. It’s what keeps us safe here.”

“I’d heard she rules this place,” Wangari offered. “Was that not the case?”

“If she told us to do anything, we probably would. We’re still pretty scared of her, it’s just that what’s out there is scarier. I should probably try to stop you, but…” Rashmi looked her up and down and then yawned. “But I should be in bed already. Just don’t do anything that’ll get us in trouble.”

“Sure,” Wangari said.

Rashmi started away, then turned back. “You have a nice voice, by the way; a lot like that DJ in Wedinburgh. Are you…?”

“Thanks! That’s not me, but I’ll bet she has great taste in music!” Wangari tossed her a wave and started up the steps. In spite of their casual conversation, she heard Rashmi take off at a run. _If she’s running to get someone, they won’t be back in time to bother me._

The steps led up to an archway with no door, and a tunnel into the center of the pyramid. A huge figure sat cross-legged within, and distant eyes glinted in the ley lines’ light as they noticed her. It could only be the Southern Cross. She was recognizably Croix, but seemed to be about two and a half meters tall and built like a semi-truck, sporting a wickedly spiked pauldron on one shoulder to go with her red cape.

Wangari blinked and the Southern Cross was suddenly holding her a meter off the ground by the front of her robe. Cold shock slammed through her, but the Sandpiper’s experience washed it away. “Uh, hi!” she said brightly.

“Who the hell are you?” the Southern Cross asked, then lifted Wangari a little further and tilted her head. “No… _what_ are you?”

“Rude.”

“Your _ki_ is all out of alignment! Are you even human?”

“You could consider me an angel,” Wangari suggested.

The Southern Cross laughed out loud and dropped her onto her feet. “You’re late, angel,” she said. “I could have used some divine intervention a few years ago, but there isn’t much left to do now. Unless you’ve come to judge me, I’m afraid we don’t have any business.”

“I haven’t come to judge you,” Wangari said. “Which is good, because you could snap me in two!”

“That’s not how I do things anymore.”

“That’s just what I was hoping to hear.” Wangari drew herself up and tried to tamp down on her humor; it seemed to be where her nerves went. “I came too late to help save your world, and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. There are so many out there, suffering in so many ways…” Wangari swallowed an unexpected surge of emotion and changed course. “…but what if I were to tell you that we could stop this same thing from happening to _another_ world?”

The Southern Cross stared and Wangari realized how completely gonzo her proposal must sound. Why would this woman have any reason to believe her, or trust her if she did? The Dimension Drive read her sudden anxiety and started to spin up again, but she managed to stop it before the emergency escape engaged.

Finally, the Woman Who Killed the World spoke. “Tell me more.”

* * *

_Luna Nova_

There was nothing left to do but watch and wait. The witches spread out over the lab’s levels, wands and weapons at the ready, but even the Noir Rod seemed to be pausing for breath. The spirit army surged higher and higher within the shield, almost lapping against the bottom edge of the Rod’s formless mass.

Diana wasn’t in the formation; in spite of her rediscovered magic, Constanze had successfully bullied her into resting. As soon as Constanze left with a magical HK123, she bribed the stanbot watching over her with one of Diana Bar’s futuristic calculator apps and wandered out onto the balcony. Neither side of her knew what to do with being left out of the plan, but lying on a bedroll and waiting wasn’t it.

She ended up leaning on the second-floor balcony rail alongside Akko, watching the swirling battle in what was almost companionable silence. Akko needed time to seethe, and Diana appreciated a moment to compose herself. They could see Lotte at the bottom of the tube, proud on her steed, singing without a care. The snatches of song that faintly reached them were lovely.

As Akko’s hands gripped the rail harder, Diana’s started to drum anxiously. Standing here wasn’t any better than lying on the bedroll! Wasn’t there anything she could do?

“ _Sybilladura Lelladybura_ ,” Diana said suddenly.

Akko twitched in surprise. “What? Sorry, are you glitching?”

“Glitch—Akko, what did I tell you about treating me like a machine? No! It’s the fifth Word of Arcturus, entrusted to Beatrix the Affectionate and passed down through the Cavendish line!” Diana’s eyes were arctic. “For pity’s sake, I get the chance to carry out one of my family’s sacred duties by passing on a Word of Arcturus, and the chosen bearer of the _Claiomh Solais_ asks me if I’m _glitching._ Of all the indignities!”

“Well don’t just spit gibberish out of the blue!” Akko shot back. “What does it mean?”

“Loosely, ‘when traditional and modern powers mingle, the door to an unseen world will open.’”

“And what does _that_ mean? What, are we supposed to sit around and think about it while everything’s going crazy? Why are we even talking about this?”

“You discerned the meaning of the last Word while you were sliding down a ghost’s gullet.”

“How did you know I—?”

“It’s hard to imagine another way you could have dislodged a Seed of Sorrow.”

“And what if I don’t want to do that anymore?” Akko swiped the Shiny Rod as though she were going to toss it away, but kept her grip. “What if I’m sick of this thing? What if I don’t want to do that stupid quest anymore, and I don’t care about the Triskelion? What if there’s something I wanted out of all this, and now that it’s worthless, I want out?”

Diana couldn’t find a reply.

“You can’t even imagine it, can you? Having someone hand you a job you didn’t ask for, and then not just doing it?” Akko smiled cruelly. “I saw that sour look you got when they put you in charge of the Samhain Festival. Did you even consider saying no? What a dutiful little r—minion! I’m not like that.”

“Then give it to me,” Diana said flatly, holding out a hand.

“What?”

“If you’re going to stand there and refuse to try something that could save us all – if you’re just going to complain and throw insults – then give me the Shiny Rod.”

Akko opened her mouth angrily, but then broke off and cocked her head. “Wait, you called it the Shiny Rod? I thought you’d insist on the real name.”

“It was a moment of inattention.” The unexpected response had blunted her anger, somewhat. Her hand fell back to her side. “Akko, please, can you tell me why you’re refusing to try this?”

“Oh, why should I tell you anything?”

“Because I’m here.” Diana spread her hands. “That, and I’m in no position to judge anything you say. I barely know you, really. I have no idea of your relationship with the Rod, or Callistis, or…”

“It’s du Nord.”

“Of course.”

“’Of course,’ she says!” Akko snarled. “Do you have any idea – I trusted her! Shiny Chariot was my hero, but she was right there, lying to my face! I thought Ursula was the one teacher who saw anything in me, but she thinks I’m an idiot, too!” Akko’s volume suddenly dropped as she folded in on herself. “I guess she’s right. I knew it, but I didn’t. My head was so mixed up in how I thought things _should_ be, I just kept pretending…”

Diana edged closer to her. “Akko…?”

Akko exploded again, throwing her arms wide. “And _now_ you’re telling me that I’m unlocking some super magic seal? What even is that, and why should I care? How am I supposed to – how – we’re in the middle of all of this _nonsense,_ and you want me to try and wrap my stupid little head around _that?_ ”

“You don’t have to be stupid to find such a task overwhelming,” Diana said gravely. “And Chariot’s behavior is clearly unacceptable. I have no advice for you, nor excuses for her.”

“Well, good. I was gonna get really mad if you tried to butt in.”

“But I must ask if awakening the Words of Arcturus is really for her benefit. You were very pleased to help Vajarois, for instance, even after being robbed of the Moonlit Witch title.”

“Robbed?”

“I put on a pretty show, but you improved the world in a measurable way. You were obviously the correct choice.” Diana brushed her hand to the side. “But we can discuss that later. When you use the Rod, when you awaken the Words, how do you feel?”

Akko was visibly trying to keep her anger going, but also eager to explain. It made Diana consider how lonely it must be to bear the Shiny Rod, even with help. “Well, confused, sometimes. Because it’s something I’m learning, so I don’t get it at first. And then it’s scary, because I’m not who I thought I was, and there’s usually a monster or something, too? But after that, it’s great!”

“And does that come from Chariot? I doubt it. The Words reveal your own strengths and virtues. It was your kindness and willingness to cast tradition aside that woke the Third Word. I imagine that it was your determination that woke the Second. And your… unorthodox entrance at the start of the year; was that the First?”

Akko turned back to the battle and didn’t answer.

“It wasn’t your desire to be like Chariot, and you weren’t doing the bidding of Callistis. It was you being Akko. You have something that I fear many witches lack, including myself. In particular, I… of late, I’ve come to wonder why you’re so often protecting or helping beings who I’m on the side of hurting. I try to be kind, but my kindness is… circumscribed. It’s as though the traditions I’ve tried to live by are a cage, and I’ve been watching you through the bars, doing things I never could!”

“I-I don’t get it. Are you trying to butter me up?”

“ _No!_ ” Diana sagged. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just talking. I’m trying to understand, and I’m afraid. That monster is still threatening everything I love, and I don’t know what to do, and maybe this is all just gibberish to manipulate you into trying the Rod. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

The Noir Rod tried to launch another volley of spikes, but this time, Jasminka’s shields held.

“It _is_ for me, isn’t it?” Akko mused, lowering her shield. “I think that’s what I was trying to say to my lady; the questing and the danger aren’t just for her. They’re a part of me.”

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry, that was the knight coming out.” Akko considered for a long moment, then said, “It sounds like you’re the one having the revelation. You sound like how I feel when I’m awakening a Word.”

“I _just_ told you I have no idea what’s happening.”

“See what I mean? It starts with confusion!” Akko insisted. “You’re figuring out a way you want to be, right? Like you’re talking about how great I am, or whatever, and I’m not. Or I am, but you’re making me a symbol? You want to be kinder, but the cage stops you! So it’s not just me you’re talking about, it’s the Diana you want to be. Right?”

Diana frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps. That seems…”

“I’ve been thinking about stuff like that lately, symbols and pedestals and whatever. You have a kind side – I’ve seen it. Remember when that mirror turned me into you? I saw how people trusted you. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew you couldn’t be all bad. You seem cold, but I think… I think maybe you show you care in a different way, and not everyone gets it?” Akko snorted. “ _I_ sure don’t.”

“The way I’ve treated you has been unbecoming of a Cavendish,” Diana admitted. “And, more importantly, far worse than you deserve. I can only apologize.”

“Whoa!” Akko leapt back, half tweaking Diana, half genuinely shocked. “You didn’t get stung by a cupid bee again, did you?”

“If you’re correct, and I _am_ on the cusp of unlocking a Word, it won’t be such a humiliating transformation,” Diana said, absently rubbing the back of her neck. “Showing care, recognizing virtue, acting on compassion… these are skills. I don’t need to be reprogrammed, merely to learn.”

“Android coming out?”

“Yes, I suppose that side of me has made a decision, as well.”

“Well, if there’s a cage keeping you from being as kind as you want to be, then let’s bust you out of it!” She held the Rod out sideways. “C’mon, take the Rod. You wanted it, take it.”

Diana hesitantly reached out and grasped it alongside her. “Can we invoke it together?”

“I think so, sure. Lotte and Sucy helped me with the Third. But I don’t get what the Words have to do with this. I don’t think you literally meant opening doors to other worlds like we did, did you? That’d just be… weirdly exact, right? Sounds like a metaphor.”

“My life was just saved by a fusion of traditional and modern magic.” Diana said. “But beyond that, this debacle has shown me the skill, ingenuity, and care of witches I’d have dismissed from my rigid perspective. And I know that I can offer them help in return, if they’ll have me. Or if _you_ will, Akko. We’re only standing here now because you’re a stronger witch than I’d ever have guessed. Who knows what we can all create together?”

“An unseen world,” Akko said. “I think I get it.”

“Yes! This all feels very self-centered, but if the Words are about discovering yourself, then that’s what I’ve found! However, in order to discover this unseen world, we will first have to deal with _that thing_.” Diana pointed to the Noir Rod. “And I think… I hope… the Shiny Rod can help us. Do you remember the Fifth Word?”

“It had, like, twenty syllables and it was at the start of this whole conversation, so no?”

“Just think about the meaning, then,” Diana said patiently, then drew a deep breath. “ _Sybilladura Lelladybura!_ ” The gems on the Shiny Rod flared brightly, turning gold one by one. One, two, three… five. The skipped stone didn’t seem to be a problem; the Rod rippled in their hands, and then stretched out into a two-meter pike with a wicked green blade.

“Another weapon,” Akko observed, troubled.

The fairy spirits cleared a path, and the next step was obvious. Diana released the spear and stepped away as Akko hauled back, planted her feet, and hurled it like a javelin. As it plunged effortlessly through Jasminka’s shield, they saw that it trailed a streamer of green light, caught in an odd loop at the end. The Noir Rod twisted to dodge it and it slipped through the thin air like the Ley Spike, and reappeared streaking in at another angle, and then another, and another, until the Noir Rod had been warped into a twisted river of black thorns wound through a skein of gleaming thread. The Shiny Rod came to rest dangling over it like a pendulum, or perhaps the Sword of Damocles.

“I’m not certain that it was a weapon after all,” Diana said.

“Do we… get it back?” Akko asked.

“I don’t know. I was expecting an explosion.”

“Yeah! Me too! That’d be scary, but it’d make sense. What do we even do with that?”

Lotte cantered up on her doe, cloak blazing and antlers of green flame sweeping from her brow. Her tentative voice was odd coming from such a majestic figure. “Was that the Shiny Rod?”

“Yeah, it…”

“That was fantastic, Akko! I just _knew_ you’d come through for us! The fairy spirits are telling me it was stitching up the holes to other dimensions that the Noir Rod made, and it just has to pull tight to close them! They don’t know why it’s waiting, though… o-oh, I have to go look after them now! When this is all over, tell me all about the Word you learned, okay?”

“Uh, actually, it was…” Akko started, half-pointing to Diana, but Lotte had already bounded off.

“So _that’s_ what that feels like,” Diana said.

* * *

On the ground floor, Barbara popped up at Chariot’s elbow. “Everything’s fine, Professor,” she said. “Diana called everyone to say that that was the Fifth Word of Arcturus, whatever the hell that means.”

“I thought it’d be something like that,” Chariot said, smiling bemusedly up at the bizarre sculpture the Rods made. “That’s interesting. The Fifth Word made a broom for me.”

“Why would it make a broom for her?” Croix slurred, struggling to sit up. “She’s like me – she can’t fly.”

“Oh, you’re up,” Chariot said idly, hiding a wince, and half-turned without offering a hand up. “Do you think you could finish your spell for us?”

“What spell? _Oh!_ ” Croix scrambled and fell against the wall, and Chariot finally helped her stand. “We can still stop it! Are the girls okay?”

“So far,” Barbara confirmed. “Now that Diana’s back on her feet. Well, I’m half-dead, but that wasn’t anyone else’s fault.”

A spike drove down from the Noir Rod and Chariot turned on her heel to block it. “I saw it try to draw the Dream Fuel Spirit from you,” she said conversationally. “ _Belga Vida._ ” The tendril’s own force lashed down its length and it retreated. “Did it finish?”

“I don’t know,” Croix admitted. She drew her wand and Chariot whirled on her. “Let me… heh.”

“Try a light,” Chariot suggested, once she was confident that she wasn’t going to get blasted. “Something small.”

Croix flicked her wand, but nothing came out. “Bother.”

“Maybe…” Chariot started hopefully.

Wangari’s beam lashed between them and deposited her and her guest just a few meters away. She fell to her knees at the feet of a looming titan. Chariot’s greeting died in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the sight of a Croix who lifts.

“I’m here with…” Wangari groaned, raising a finger, then flopped to the floor. “Gimme a moment.”

“First thing’s first,” the Southern Cross said, scanning the room, then advanced and threw a punch at Croix Prime. Jasminka caught her fist, but the shockwave still knocked Croix sprawling. 

“Without even a show trial?” Jasna asked lightly, freeing her with a gentle push. “What kind of tyrant are you?”

The Southern Cross reoriented on her and struck a low fighting stance that still left her towering over everyone. Jasminka stood casually and waited with an unwavering smile.

“Listen, you’re outmatched here,” Chariot said. “And all of these girls are in a _very_ bad mood, so I wouldn’t test them. Even this one.”

“ _Especially_ this one,” Jasminka agreed mildly. “I’m completely enraged and barely holding it together.”

The Southern Cross rounded on Chariot, but froze in horror upon actually seeing her. “Y-you,” she said softly.

Jasminka had been acting casual for show, but it was obvious when she truly relaxed. She knew there wouldn’t be a fight now.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Chariot said.

“No!” Croix gasped, catching on. “You didn’t. You didn’t! I’d never!”

“That’s what I thought, too,” the Southern Cross said. “But we forget about everyone else when we have a problem to solve… what’s one more person? The lines aren’t so easy to draw, are they? When you accept the idea of people as a resource to spend, that’s everyone.”

Jasminka frowned.

“Anyway!” Wangari cut in, way too brightly. If she hadn’t regained her cheer, she’d at least rebuilt a façade. “I’ve seen this happen before! You’re confronting another self you could have been, and you want the meeting to be momentous. You want to _learn_ something. I get it! But you came to do a job. Let’s just do it and get you back where you belong.”

The Southern Cross smiled thinly. “Where I belong, huh?”

“I think that you, of all people, aren’t about to run off to a green world and leave behind the one you… well…” Wangari gestured to the suspended Noir Rod. “Also, I got the impression you were waiting for something there. I don’t want you to miss it!”

“Perceptive.”

“It’s the reporter in me. Now, Queenie, here, will—”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Jasminka said sharply. “Please, Wangari. I’m here, too.”

“Sorry. My good friend Jasminka will open a door for you to get in there, and you put your hand in the center of the glyph, and… does she have to do anything else, Professor Meridies?”

“The Noir Rod will try to stop you,” Croix said. “So all you have to do is survive.”

“We’re good at that, aren’t we?” the Southern Cross said. “I’m ready, then.”

“I’m going with you,” Wangari added. “You’ll want a witch by your side, just in case.”

Chariot started to object, but met her eyes and held off.

Jasminka snapped her fingers and two of the minkabots chorused, “ **ACKNOWLEDGED,** ” unfolding their arms to make an archway. Hot air rolled out with the mingled smells of a clean thunderstorm and burning electronics. None of the Noir Rod’s scarlet power made it past the fairies, but a braided knot of black tendrils wound out, only to meet a hellish wash of flame from Barbara’s wand and spread around it like an opening flower.

The Southern Cross leapt directly into the flames and punched her way to the gate, ignoring Barbara’s panicked shriek as she turned her spell away. The Noir Rod launched a rapid-fire volley of slender spikes into the floor of its prison, but the Southern Cross was simply never where they fell. After everything it had taken to get to this point, her march to the nullification spell was anticlimactic.

“Are you sure she’s outmatched?” Barbara asked.

Jasminka stood with crossed arms and an unimpressed smile. “Utterly.”

“Oh man,” Wangari said at the barrier’s entrance, repeatedly starting in and chickening out. “Here I go…”

The Southern Cross finally stopped in front of the magic seal and allowed the spikes to rain down on her crossed forearms. “Hmph,” she said, perhaps disappointed, then thrust her hand in to activate the spell. It burst into a coppery pulse that filled the vast chamber in an instant and then doubled back in like a wave. The lab’s machinery went dark. The sorcery units and pixels fell. The Noir Rod itself seemed to struggle, but its scarlet light guttered out and a brittle gray film spread over its surface.

Looking at the lab’s sensor records, Croix would later realize that the spell’s pulse traveled out along the channels connecting the Noir Rod to its extradimensional counterparts. Magitronic masterworks had been running wild in those 22 other worlds, and now they stopped cold. Mechanical demons plummeted from the sky in one world, a titanic fusion cannon powered down before it could obliterate the moon in another, a paperclip maximizer ground to a halt just as it started to disassemble a hospital in a third… 

“Now, then,” the Southern Cross said, turning back towards her counterpart and punching an open palm. “I have a lesson to teach before I—"

“Oops!” Wangari chirped, slapping her stomach, and a golden beam yanked the Southern Cross back home before she could finish the sentence. “What now?” she asked, wringing her hand.

* * *

That was the moment the Shiny Rod had been waiting for.

It plunged with impossible weight, striking the twisted mass of the Noir Rod dead center and pulling it in like a sheet being drawn through a hole. The pull grew stronger and stronger, and the remains of the Noir Rod collapsed further and further – from the size of a car to a fridge to a basketball to a golf ball to a grain of sand – creaking and groaning horribly.

Directly beneath, Wangari looked at her hands as a translucent image of them started to peel away, gleaming with the Dimension Drive’s light. The combining Rods were like a black hole, and their gravity was ripping the visitors free. It was starting to hurt. “My spell!” she cried desperately. “If the ritual isn’t in place, they won’t get home!”

Diana responded with a confident volley of paintballs, splattering out a giant green magic circle over the lab’s floor. “Everyone down!” she called. “Everyone into the circle!”

Hannah was already zooming in as Darius whipped around the upper floors on his broom, bringing witches down in heart-stopping dives and flashing back up. Chariot and Croix hurriedly cleared out as the ten gathered beneath the strengthening black hole.

“This is my spell, down to the last glyph,” Wangari said, looking around in shock. “Diana, how did you…?”

“You scanned it, didn’t you?” Diana replied, tapping her temple with a faint smile. “I might miss some aspects of this body.”

“Hey, Lotte, you look great!” Darius crowed, delivering a bone-rattling high five as she raced back up for Constanze.

Lotte tried to call “you too” after him, but her voice had finally given out.

“Sucy, where’s your robe?” Akko yelled. “Are you okay? Oh my god!”

“So loud…” Sucy grumbled as her friend shook her.

Jasminka shied back as Constanze made landfall, but her friend wasn’t having any of that. Conz stomped right up to her and then stopped in her tracks, looking up uncertainly. “Wait just a moment,” Jasminka suggested as the spectral image of the Queen drifted another few centimeters out from her. “P-please. Wait until it’s really us.”

“Is it happening?” Hannah asked as Barbara caught her elbows. “It’s happening! That means… that means…” Instead of replying, Barbara just hugged her. “I… Barb, I don’t want to go! I don’t…”

“You’ll be fine,” Barbara said, stroking her shoulders. “You’re gonna be fine, trust me.”

The pain was unbearable for a split-second, and Hannah was thrown in every direction at once. She cried out and tumbled, landing on… what? A cushion of air in a chamber of green light, just like the one that had carried her out to find…

“Hey, kid,” Detective England said.

“Oh…” Hannah said dumbly. “Hello.”


	13. Farewell, Travelers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many stories are fragments of conversations you wish you could've had. They're less a guide than a dream.

_Hannah’s Beam_

“Guess I’m gonna wake up now, huh?” Detective England asked. She was an image in dull blue, sitting on thin air with the tails of her trench coat dangling to her ankles and a spectral cigarette between her fingers. She seemed to be in her late 20s; Hannah hadn’t _felt_ older in her memories, but some of that stuff wouldn’t make sense for a teenager. “I’d say it’s been fun, but… heh…”

“I’m really sorry,” Hannah said. “I… I didn’t know…”

“I know you didn’t know. I _was_ you, remember?” England took a pull of her cigarette and said, distantly, “Maybe I should thank you, even. I needed some time to cool down. I was just about to do something I’d regret.”

Hannah didn’t have to ask what.

“That must be why I agreed to come. Your Diana was right – I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but I chose to come with you. I wanted out, for a little while.”

“Did it help?”

“I don’t know. I still miss Barb like crazy and I’m still mad as hell, but maybe I won’t do anything stupid now.”

Hannah looked down pensively. “I don’t… I didn’t remember much about her. Detective Parker, I mean. Was she like my Barbara?”

“Yeah, I think so. We met older, but I’ll bet she was a lot like yours when she was a schoolgirl.” England stubbed out her cigarette. “She was a selfish little rat, just a real two-faced schemer, but she was good to me. Never could have gotten the detective business of the ground without her.”

“We deserve each other,” Hannah murmured. “The good and the bad.”

“Ha. Y’know, speaking of regrets… I was kind of a shit when I was in school. And you?” England smirked. “Sorry, kid – you’re kind of a shit, too. Maybe shape up before you end up a bitter old spinster like me. Besides, are these _really_ people you wanna piss off?”

“Old?”

“I _feel_ old, anyway.” England stood. “And when you’re back and everything’s settled, give Barbara a kiss for me, eh? It’s good to know you two are out there.”

Hannah nodded sadly.

England smiled, shook her head, and stepped out of the universe.

* * *

_The World of Hannah England, PI_

Hannah staggered and caught herself on the back of a bench. She’d been in midstride, and slipping back in behind her grim face, once again feeling hot blood pounding in her temples, was shocking. She slowly raised a hand to her burning face and a memory from her dream, already dimming, flickered across her mind. _“You’re cute when you brood, but maybe you should take a break?”_

She dropped into the bench. Hannah wasn’t a crying sort, and she had no one to cry to these days, anyway. She just let out a long hiss and gripped painful handfuls of her hair. The weight that had settled in her chest since Barbara’s death was melting a bit, rolling beneath her skin like magma. She couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Alright,” she rasped. “Can we move?”

She could, unfortunately.

Diana was waiting at their empty table on _The Yellow Rose_ ’s patio, staring at nothing, and startled as Hannah approached. She fought down a disgusting twinge of sympathy. _Oh, come on, that isn’t the nice kid from the witch school._ The corners of Hannah’s mouth twitched up, though she didn’t feel it. _And she_ should _be nervous._

“Hello,” Diana said evenly, and held Hannah’s gun out by the barrel, offering it grip-first. “Did your visit go well?”

“Everything your aunt told me squares with what I know,” Hannah reported. “Chloé Leblanc’s your blackmailer, so that’s my job done. But more importantly, your henchwoman killed my partner, and now you’re trying to make it better with a fat check. Got anything to say for yourself?”

“No,” Diana replied, continuing to hold the gun out. When Hannah finally took it, she folded her hands and waited with a look of detached curiosity. “Nothing.”

“You seem awfully confident,” Hannah said sourly, holstering the gun. “But then, I’d end up face-down in the river if I did anything to you.”

“That is likely, yes.” 

“You know, Barbara never asked me to get revenge, if she ever got offed. She thought the whole idea was stupid. And either way, it’s my choice what to do, now.” Hannah took out a cigarette, but felt too sick to light it. “I don’t have to avenge her, and I don’t have to forgive you. I’m just gonna go.”

“Go?” Diana asked.

“Across the ocean, maybe. Or maybe I’ll head up north, visit the highlands.” Hannah shrugged. “This is goodbye. Once your check clears, I’m leaving you and this whole rotten city behind. Felt like we had something going, there, but we can forget it, now.”

Diana pursed her lips and nodded. “Understood.”

“And don’t think about tacking a bonus on. We agreed on a rate and I think I’ve had enough of your charity.”

“Of course.”

“Well, then,” Hannah said, and hopped _The Yellow Rose’s_ rail. “Good luck with the hospitals, _try_ not to murder anyone else, and have a nice life.”

She set out at a quick march, intending to be four blocks away before she had a chance to think about any of this. Hopefully, she could find a private place to melt down. She was almost looking forward to it.

“Oh, Detective, one last thing,” Diana called. When Hannah reluctantly turned, she held out a handful of bullets. “You’ll want these back.”

* * *

_Barbara’s Beam_

“Don’t you disappear,” Barbaracelli growled, leaning into Barbara’s face, gripping the front of her shirt. The fool’s makeup, which she surely hadn’t been wearing as she sank, made it doubly intimidating. “Do you understand? Get your head fixed!” 

“O-okay,” Barbara said. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m not even saying to stick around for Hannah, or Diana, or any of them, right? You know they’d care, but what’s more important is what’d happen to you! _You_ have to care!”

“I do, I do!” Barbara insisted, flailing. “I didn’t even want to do anything!”

“Well, good!” Barbaracelli stepped back and patted Barbara’s shirt out. “Look, I just want you to work on this now in case it gets worse. You might not need a mind doctor, but if you do, it’s better to get to them before it’s really bad, so you can walk away if you need to. It’s better when they don’t have an excuse to lock you up.”

“Really? Did you…?”

“You didn’t remember everything from my side, of course.” Barbaracelli gave a happy sigh. “Now that that’s settled, I can pass on peacefully.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If I had one regret, it’s that we spent the last hour or two running around with a bona-fide Evil Queen, and didn’t get to make fun of her.”

“Oh, I’ll get her for you.”

“The Queen was Jasminka _Bar_ , you numbskull. We well and truly missed our shot.” Barbaracelli sniffed. “And Amanda was right: that _Ghostbusters_ crack was beneath us. Mocking someone for their weight is… poor craft. Not even worthy of clowns.”

Barbara pouted. “I guess you’re right.”

“Something to think about, eh?” Barbaracelli came up beside her and elbowed her lightly. “Have a nice life! And I mean that. A long, happy one. Pick out a house with Hannah, adopt some kids. You like cats, too, right? Get like ten of ‘em!”

“You t…” Barbara started, then hung her head, blushing. “Oh. Right.”

Barbaracelli laughed. “You know? I have this weird feeling that I just might. Maybe I gave up on myself too fast. This all might just be a near-death experience!”

“Do you think?”

“Absolutely! In fact, I feel myself coming back to life now!” Barbaracelli said, and dove into the dark.

* * *

_The World of Barbaracelli the Fool_

Barbara hacked up some more water and finally tried to sit up. It was hard going with the slippery grass under her hands, but she made it. “Oh my god,” she groaned between coughs. “I thought I was lying. I was _definitely_ lying. How am I still here?”

“What was that?” Dr. O’Neil asked.

“Nothing,” Barbara said. “I mean, thank you.”

She was sitting on the bank of the river that had nearly claimed her, in the shadow of the bridge she’d knocked her head on. O’Neil stood nearby, wringing out their suit jacket and flapping it in the air, and the wagon rested just off the road. It looked like the good doctor was planning to make camp, not that Barbara could complain. It was still a gorgeous summer day, which felt strange after all those hours beneath Luna Nova’s frigid gray sky. _Both of us took to being a ghost way too well. I hope that little witch’ll be okay._

“Just sit your ass down when we’re on the wagon again, and we’ll be fine,” O’Neil said lightly. “Normally, I’d dangle a rescue like this over a person and get favors from them, but, like I said, you don’t seem like such a rich mark.”

“I know this is a dangerous thing to say to a marauding doctor-slash-rhetorician-slash-brigand, but…” Barbara hacked again, and O’Neil unhelpfully thumped her back. “ _Uhf! Ow!_ I’m really happy to not be dead, so if there’s anything I can do to repay you…”

“Well, since you’re offering, there _is_ something I’d like to try,” O’Neil said, leaning down next to her. “And I think you’ll like it. There’s a couple of families of aristocrats not too far south of here – real fat cats, you’d hate ‘em – and maybe they’d be interested in hiring a fool for the night’s entertainment. Now, tell me: do you know what a confidence game is?”

* * *

_Diana’s Beam_

“You and your classmates are the first humans I’ve ever met,” D.I.A.N.A. said. “It was a fascinating experience.”

Diana didn’t respond. She was too overwhelmed by the sensation of her own heartbeat, of _needing_ each breath. Exhaustion loomed in a thundercloud behind her forehead and her limbs ached, but she was still too keyed up from _everything_ to rest. A whole evening of confusion, fear, guilt, anger, excitement, and strange joy crashed against the walls of her heart.

“I was struck more by how _similar_ they were to my crewmates than any particular differences. I’d known that we androids were based on humans, but it was still a surprise. Though, thinking back, humans do carry an odd scent…”

“Scent?” Diana asked, and flinched at the sound of her own voice. A hum in her throat – wet, like the gauzy layer settling over her senses. Once again, her view of the world was compressed to an arc before her eyes, leaving her blind above, behind, beneath. It should have been a return to normal, but now, with nothingness pressing in from behind… _No. Stay calm._

“Not unpleasant, merely different. After all, we are not composed of the same materials.” D.I.A.N.A. considered for a moment. “A more important difference may be that androids have more options for dealing with mental and emotional distress. Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Diana swallowed and tried in a more natural voice. “Fine.”

D.I.A.N.A.’s face stayed blank, but she was clearly unconvinced. She was a few centimeters taller than Diana, and her hands, resting at her sides, were finely articulated metal. As a monochrome image in blue, it was impossible to make out the familiar green of her uniform tunic.

“Are _you_ okay?” Diana asked, as though making a riposte.

“Yes. In fact, I am doing better than I’ve been for quite some time. I would like to thank you for this opportunity, both to experience another’s heart, and to think about my dilemma from a new perspective. I can only hope that I have managed to be as helpful to you.”

“I’ve learned a lot, yes.” Diana nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

“I wonder if I will retain the sensor logs that we took together. They would be an excellent way to verify this experience.”

“I… wonder if I will.” Diana cradled her forehead and stirred through her memories of the past few hours. “I need to rest. And think. And… I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to see you off properly. I’m too…”

“I believe I understand,” D.I.A.N.A. assured her. “Do not worry. If anything, it is surprising that we have anything to say at all, after our hearts were one. There was just one last thing.”

“Please.”

“There was a moment after the Doc… that is, Constanze repaired us, where we were separated, somewhat. You explained the concept of alexithymia to me. Do you remember? I appreciate how gentle and patient you were with me, even though our fusion had caused you such pain.”

“Oh, that…” Diana said uncomfortably. “What else was I supposed to do? I’d plucked you out of your universe, and I _was_ you. What purpose would harshness have served?”

“Having experienced some of your memories, I now wonder why you don’t take such a tone with yourself more often. There are many times you might ask yourself what purpose harshness serves, instead of defaulting to it.”

Diana’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Consider the time we first met.” D.I.A.N.A. inclined her head. “You could not possibly have predicted the disaster that befell you, but your response was to savage yourself as an… ‘arrogant, preening moron,’ I believe. I would encourage you to be kinder to yourself.”

“I will when I deserve it.” Diana straightened and blinked. It had felt true in her head, but it sounded bizarre now that she’d said it out loud.

“I don’t understand – what does deservingness have to do with it?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Hmm,” D.I.A.N.A. said gravely. “Humans are very complicated.”

Diana surprised them both by laughing. After a few seconds, a tiny wisp of fear drifted through her mirth as she realized she couldn’t stop. The android approached and rested a hand on her shoulder, which helped. “I’m okay,” she finally said, flicking a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m okay. If you need to, you can go.”

“Well. Thank you once again, Ms. Cavendish,” the android said with a cool nod. She took a step back, coming up to the edge of her own world. “We may never meet again, but I can hope.”

“Likewise,” Diana said. “Safe travels.”

* * *

_The World of D.I.A.N.A._

Diana was herself again. Her battery now had days in it, instead of hours, and the reports from her sensors were crisp and bright. One thing was different, though: she’d always wondered about the efficiency of maintaining her face and hair, since the crew so rarely interacted with humans. Now that she had a friend to associate them with, she was much more comfortable with them.

_This face isn’t just mine, though. There are seventeen other DIANA units; why was that girl linked to me, in particular?_

There would be time to think about that later. When she’d made contact with her other self, Diana had been agonizing over a message to the Doctor’s repair bay on Mimosa 2, the grey and green planet hulking below. She finished and sent with a few confident taps, and the reply confirming her appointment popped up a moment later.

Next, she composed a much shorter message to Acco, asking to see her at her convenience, but assuring her that it was nothing urgent. Of course, Acco showed up at her door two minutes later.

“I said it wasn’t urgent,” Diana said.

“Uh, I can come back later, if…”

Diana squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, come in. I’ve found something. And I’ll need you to be patient, because it is a somewhat disconcerting notion.”

Acco crossed the room and perched by the viewport, kicking her armored boots and fidgeting with blunt metal fingers.

“Are you… impatient?” Diana asked, searching her face.

“I’ve been worried about you for a while, so I’m just nervous.” Acco chuckled awkwardly. “Y’know, it’s weird being super straightforward like that, but I kind of like it. Glad you asked me to. What’s on your mind, Diana?”

“I’ve been, ah, doing some research, and I’ve learned that the difficulty I have with my emotions is a trait that I share with many humans. They have, of course, developed techniques to negotiate this, and ease their interactions with people who experience the world differently. Learning these techniques will be a simple matter, though applying them may be less so.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Acco said with a nod. “A lot of the problems I have to work with turned out to come from a human thing, too. Some acronym, ADH-something.”

 _No wonder she’s been so understanding._ Diana sat at her desk and swiveled towards Acco. This next part was difficult; it would require her to voice something she’d worried about, but never shared. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have needed a diagnosis to realize this, but I am now confident that I’m not a defective machine; rather, I’m another type of person. And so, instead of becoming a new person, I will learn to better be the one that I am.”

Acco smiled cautiously. “So you’re not getting your emotions reprogrammed?”

“I am not. That resolved, submitting a request to have my navigation hardware repaired was easy. I’ll be going planetside tomorrow, and if all goes well, I will be capable of guiding us out on our next mission.”

“That’s fantastic!” Acco sprang to her feet with a heavy _clunk._ “Can we celebrate?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Diana said. “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“In that case, can we do something nice together, since we’re on leave? Just, you know, totally unrelated to anything?”

Diana realized that she was smiling, a little. She clipped the beanbag snake to her belt and said, “Give me a moment to feed Perry, and I’ll be ready to go.”

* * *

_Constanze’s Beam_

Constanze wasn’t mute all the time. Her condition was called “selective mutism,” though she would enjoy being able to _select_ when it applied. When she was alone, or with her family back home, or in private with close friends she trusted, she had no trouble speaking. 

Here was a puzzle, though: she sat facing her other self, a phantom of shining green. Roach wore tough, weathered clothing and had a tough, weathered face. Was this close enough to being alone? Maybe family? She was almost afraid to test her voice. For a time, they just rested and looked at each other.

“I can’t believe we called Diana ‘little bunny,’” Constanze finally said in her mother tongue. She’d never called anyone _häschen,_ and hadn’t imagined she ever would. It felt so… saccharine.

“We love our projects,” Roach replied contemplatively. “Diana became a project when she broke down, and so we loved her.”

“Is that awful?” Constanze wondered.

“I don’t know,” Roach said. “I don’t think so.”

So, they could talk. Good. That confirmed, they settled into a more comfortable silence.

“You’re so much stronger than me,” Roach eventually said. “I wish I could learn how to handle people.”

Constanze was dumbfounded. A woman who spent her days wringing vegetables out of the poisoned earth of a devastated world thought that a student in a cushy private school was stronger than her? “No,” was all she could dredge up.

“Hm,” Roach said, reading her. “Differently strong? I can’t do what you do. We saw.”

“Differently, maybe,” Constanze conceded, though she didn’t buy it. She didn’t like the idea that their aversion to noise and brightness and conversation was _weakness._ “The spell asked who I wanted to be, and it was you. You look after yourself. You live alone, but friends depend on you. You work all day, and it’s good work. I want that, but without…” She wasn’t sure how to delicately describe the worldwide apocalyptic tragedy that had defined Roach’s life.

“I understand.” Roach made eye contact for a moment, and they both shied. “I hate that I can’t deal with other people. I’ll learn.”

“I’m glad you have friends, though,” Constanze said. “We’re lucky to have them. Especially Jasminka and Amanda.”

“I hope that wasn’t Breeze’s old name,” Roach said. “He didn’t want to tell people. I’d feel dirty if I found it out. Like I came to this world to sneak out his secret.”

“You’ll never know if it was. You’ll never bring it up, so you’ll never find out.”

“Smart.” Roach stood and dusted off her knees. “I should go. This was nice.”

“It was?”

“In a way.” Roach’s faint humor faded. “It’s going to get easier for me. I’ll figure the work out and the world will heal. I think things will get harder for you, though.”

“I know,” Constanze said. “But maybe in a good way. Thanks.”

They shared a nod, and Roach took her leave.

* * *

_The World of Roach_

Roach’s eyes opened on the homestead’s rough ceiling. She’d long since tuned them out, but now the moaning wind, the sharp scents of her workshop, and the dry warmth of late fall blanketed her. She couldn’t decide if she was happy about being back; that cold, wet, blue-and-green world had been beautiful, but it hadn’t been home. She sat up and stretched, almost enjoying the familiar aches and stiffness. They were part of home, too.

Had her body been lying here without a soul for those few minutes that Wangari had visited? It didn’t bear thinking about.

Roach wandered downstairs in a daze, bare feet slapping on dry planks, and almost had a heart attack at the reminder she wasn’t alone. Bear and Breeze were nestled together in a bedroll in the living room floor, snoring just out of sync with each other. Roach would never have taken Breeze for a cuddler, or herself for a person who’d get jealous over it. The idea of touching another person for that long made her skin crawl.

Roach picked up a tail as she passed into the warm night. Snake and Charmer preferred to sleep under the sky despite the wind, and her passing had woken Snake to drift after her. When she paused and looked back, Snake just returned her gaze unapologetically and said nothing. That was fine. Snake just got nervous when people wandered off alone, in her deadpan way.

Roach sprawled back on the rough grass and let her mind spin. Would she be getting used to people again, and should she want to? Would this world’s shattered spirits come to look like the ones she’d seen in Luna Nova, if they healed? Could she use her memories of Diana and the mental interfaces Constanze made to build Charmer an arm? Would Charmer want one?

And the biggest question: who should she tell about this adventure? Anyone? There was only one person who could corroborate her experience, and it was nobody she ever wanted to meet. And dangling the idea of unreachable worlds full of healthy plants, clean water, and singing birds in front of her friends might be cruel…

Overhead, the leylines were burning low, letting a hint of deep midnight blue through. Almost despite herself, Roach let her mind wind down. The answers wouldn’t come lying in the grass, and that was all she was good for at the moment.

Snake sat down next to her, and they silently watched the sun rise together.

It was nice.

* * *

Half a continent away, the sun had not yet risen on the white walls of the Hero’s Tomb. Within, the Southern Cross stood from her meditation, ran her hand over an alabaster casket, and strode out under the crimson sky. At long last, her fate had come.

For the second time that night, a stranger had arrived at the base of the pyramid. The small woman stood proudly, cloak and long brown hair flying in the wind. All down her torso and leg, jagged scars blazed through her clothing with the green light of the unspoiled heart of magic. The previous visitor had passed without remark, but now the people of their nameless little town filtered out of their homes, murmuring and jostling. They would know soon if they needed to bear witness, flee, or just go back to bed.

The Southern Cross stopped at the top of the pyramid’s stairs, unclasping her cape and casting it to the wind. This confrontation had been a long time in coming, but now she had no idea what would follow.

“Well, then, old friend,” she said over her shoulder. “Let’s see just what your student has learned.”

* * *

_Darius’s Beam_

“Well!” mild-mannered economics professor Alexander Prescott said. His posture was perfect, his glasses gleamed, and his tweed jacket was perfectly ironed. Darius couldn’t tell how much of his presentation was put on for secret identity purposes, and how much was genuine. “We might both be idiots.”

“Speak for yourself,” Darius said. “I’m a goddamn genius. Remember how we whipped out that buffer spell? I only saw Wulfiue cast that, like, twice!”

“Yes, indeed,” Alexander said brightly. “Such talent! And like the genius you are, you’re trying to get thrown out of the one place that could teach you to use it!”

Darius growled. “Yeah, yeah. We covered that already. I’ll figure something else out.”

“Sorry, I’m coming on too strong. You can really tell I’m a supervillain, can’t you?”

“Are you, though?”

“Maybe not. It’s not like they’re teams you can join.” Alexander paused, then repeated thoughtfully, “Teams you can join…”

Darius had turned away. “I guess after you take off, we’ll be ourselves again. You’ll go back to being the phantom thief, and I’ll be… I’m not sure, all of a sudden. Hey, thanks for giving me a name for my gender nonsense, by the way. I never knew what my deal was. I mean, being a boy, but only sometimes? How could I have guessed _that?_ ”

“It helps to meet other people who’ve asked the same questions. But this was a hell of a way to meet, wasn’t it?”

“Ha, yeah.” Darius looked back. “So… did I manage to give _you_ anything?”

“Mainly time to think. I was about to do something really dumb.” Alexander inspected his nails. “Now I’m just going to do something a little bit dumb. I don’t want to say any more, or I’ll talk myself out of it.”

“Um, alright,” Darius said awkwardly, then looked down at his hands, turning them over. “Y’know, I’m not sure I’ll wanna be Darius much longer.”

“If you don’t want to be Darius, well, that’s a sign you’re not. If Amanda starts to feel more right, then that’s who you are! Just pay attention to yourself, and you’ll know.”

“That simple, huh?” Darius asked skeptically.

“You think that’s _simple?_ Ha!” Alexander was gone before Darius could answer.

* * *

_The World of the Phantom Thief Dasher_

Alexander surged back into the instant he was freed, just as he was leaping from the coils of cybermatter and tensing to do he-knew-not-what. He’d figured it out now, though. With a practiced flash-step, he snapped his heels back to the ground and stuck out a hand. “I’m joining the Lunopolis League!” he announced.

Diana, the formerly-mysterious and still-beautiful Silver Sentry, recoiled. “ _What?_ ”

Alexander laughed and withdrew his hand. “What? You don’t want to call the authorities on me, but you don’t want to let me go, either. You were even coaching me on ways I could use my powers for good! Seems like an opportunity for both of us.”

Diana stared for a long moment, then looked back to Solar and Cold Fusion, still hovering above the scene.

“It’d be unwise,” Cold Fusion said. “They’re responsible for a string of high-profile burglaries.”

“You tried to plunge Lunopolis into eternal winter!” Solar protested.

“That was different.”

“It’s worse!” Solar cried. “You understand that it’s worse, right?”

Diana massaged the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe I’m considering this. Dasher, don’t you prefer being an outlaw?”

“You guys don’t go around writing tickets or busting up protests or, what, arresting kids who’re acting up in school, do you? I’m sure I can stomach this. I’m willing to help people, and that’s what you do.”

“They’ve got standards,” Cold Fusion observed dryly.

“ _Good_ standards!” Solar said. She clapped and a tiny explosion popped between her hands as she drew them apart. “I say we let them join!”

Diana hung her head and sighed, “Of _course_ you do.”

Alexander was torn between offense at Diana’s dismay and glee from knocking her head spinning. He kept it all in, though a smirk crawled up the side of his face.

“If you’re willing to sponsor them, Di,” Cold Fusion said, with a hint of cruel amusement, “I vote yes, too. The others won’t object. I wasn’t sure, but imagine the press we’ll get when we have a famous thief zapping people out of burning buildings.”

“If _I…_?” Diana squawked. “Rajani, why is _that_ your condition?”

“You’re the one with the history, of course. If Dasher had kidnapped one of _my_ friends, I’d have sealed them in a block of ice and thrown them from the roof.” Cold Fusion gave Alexander a sideways glance. “No offense. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure,” Alexander said easily. “What do you say, Silver Sentry?”

“Alright,” Diana said, defeated. “I could point out that kidnapping a reporter is a bad way to get our attention, but perhaps the world of superheroes has become such a twisted, heightened place that such foolishness seems sensible. I’ve endured two misunderstanding fights this month alone. What’s one more?”

 _Wasn’t I just thinking about that?_ Alexander mused. _Huh. That Barbara girl was smarter than I gave her credit for. I wonder if there’s a version of her around here, too._

“We can try it,” Diana finally said. “I’ll be watching you, though.”

“That’s the idea.”

“And I’ll warn you: the Lunopolis League isn’t currently on the best of terms with local law enforcement,” Diana said. “We’re forced to work with them on some things, but you won’t be able to count on the police for aid.”

“Never could, and I wouldn’t trust you if you _were_ on good terms with those guys.” Alexander grinned. “So, what’s our first mission?”

“Explaining our new arrangement to Atsuko, of course,” Diana replied with a quirk of her eyebrow. “We can set out immediately.”

 _Shit._ Alexander’s face fell. _Being a superhero is dangerous!_

* * *

_Jasminka’s Beam_

The Queen manifested in full armor with a diadem and fur cape, of course. She was every bit the imposing, magnificent figure that had piqued Jasminka’s curiosity during the ritual. If only the way she’d become so had remained a mystery.

Jasminka sat with her arms crossed on her knees, glaring up at her other self resentfully, and the Demon of Wrath coiled behind her. It was clearly hoping to lunge past her and fall upon the Queen, but she wouldn’t let it. Not even a bloodthirsty conqueror deserved what it could do.

“You could make that creature serve you,” the Queen said. “You have the strength to. You need only let it out, and take a firm hand with it.”

“Get out,” Jasminka said.

The Queen turned away with a swish of her cape. “You would be wise to—”

Jasminka stood and delivered a solid kick to her rear.

* * *

_The World of Queen Jasminka IV_

Somehow, the Queen landed back in her throne. Her axe was posted at her side, cool in her hand. Courtiers were clustered all around her at desks and refreshment tables, doing their business in a gentle susurrus of soft voices and shuffling papers. Two crystal automatons flanked the entrance, still as statues. A few well-to-do petitioners were gathered at the front of the room, arguing with some bureaucrats from the outer circle, but it didn’t look like they’d get to talk to her.

 _“Imagine a lifetime of triumph and glory turning into a nightmare.”_ The Queen sat, outwardly unmoved by her adventure. _Is this a nightmare?_

It wouldn’t be here, in the empire’s locus of power and comfort. She leaned her axe into its alcove and crossed the room with soft steps, oblivious to the courtiers scurrying out of her way. The throne room windows overlooked the confluence of three rivers running through her capital, full of shallow-drafted boats and leaping fish. The Queen already knew the answer; the nightmare was in the regions plundered to build this shining city, and the steady grind of her army’s spread.

The witch’s sweet, mundane memories were fading; soon, all she would have of the other Jasminka would be those few hours in the cold, furiously battling herself. To think that, among the enemies she’d killed, crushed, and exiled across the span of her empire, there were people who would have been her friends in another world. What could she even do with that knowledge? For most of them, it was too late.

She turned at a sudden commotion, instinctively reaching for her axe.

“It’s a big day, Your Majesty!” General Blackwell announced, striding in alongside a hooded prisoner with her hands bound behind her back. “Look who we just caught!”

For a split-second, the Queen was confused and disappointed that it wasn’t General O’Neil – but then, she’d died in the siege of Albrecthsburg, killed by her Queen as surely as if she’d been on the other side. She’d nearly had a heart attack when her automaton reported getting orders from the fallen general, in that other world.

 _“Once you accept the idea of people as a resource to spend, that’s everyone.”_ If some bleeding heart or revolutionary had said it, she’d have brushed it off. A fellow tyrant, though, speaking from experience? At this rate, she would expend everyone she knew.

“No guards?” the Queen asked.

“Not for this one,” Blackwell answered, pulling the hood off.

 _Akko…_ The high priestess of the Single-Minded Sect looked up at her dispassionately with huge, red-brown eyes. This woman had led three armies against her and heated the greater part of the empire’s population to a low simmer, but the Queen couldn’t kill her now. For some _asinine_ reason, she looked at this warrior and still saw a friend.

“I hear you’ve been preaching that my empire is an affront not only to the gods, but to humanity itself.” The Queen started in a slow circle around the Priestess. “That my cruelty knows no bounds, and that it is the duty of your followers to oppose me in every way they can.”

“Yes,” the Priestess said. “That’s all true.”

“Now, what if I decided that you had some good points?” the Queen asked. As she passed behind, she snapped the Priestess’s bonds with her thumb and forefinger. “What if I thought that I and my administrators had something to learn from you?”

“You’d be bribing me with power,” the Priestess said, rubbing her wrists. “Safety.”

“As far as you know, that’s true.”

“If you really meant to follow my teachings, you’d be overthrown. You wouldn’t even have time to step down. The moment you stop giving this nest of vipers what they want, they’ll turn on you, and each other. My lessons would do what my armies could not.”

“Maybe so. If they think they’re hard enough, they might try something. Honestly, an insurrection sounds like it might be fun – Chernobog knows nobody _outside_ of the Empire has been putting up much of a fight. So maybe I should take up the Single-Minded Faith and we can both see if it really does kick off a bloody civil war. What do you say?”

“You’re… you’re serious?”

“Deadly serious.”

The Priestess was gaping like a fish, struggling to answer. Her hesitance was surprising. Perhaps she’d been hoping for a clean victory when she’d raised those armies, but there was no such thing. The courtiers and petitioners were a ring of pale, horrified faces around them. Blackwell looked like he might go for his dagger on the spot, which was reasonable. Given what she’d just suggested, it’d be a mark against him if he _didn’t_ try to stab her.

The Queen smiled. She’d thought that she would be the one to face a terrible choice, but this was _much_ more fun.

* * *

_Sucy’s Beam_

The red-tinged phantom of Fairy Smoke was a colossus, winding before Sucy like a stream of incense, hair spreading in a cloud, flaming beacons for eyes. Her memories had given no hint of how terrible she’d be to face. Sucy would’ve gotten a bigger kick out of it if Smoke were more interested in menacing or devouring her.

“I never needed to wonder after all,” Smoke observed. “Nor did you. They love us, and we love them.”

“Yuck,” Sucy said.

“Don’t act like you’re not relieved, too.” Smoke reclined like a snake, borne in a spread of black petals. Light bloomed and shadow deepened, reducing her to an incomprehensible mass of red and black dazzle camo. The effect was nauseating, and Sucy couldn’t bear to look away. “It scared you, but you were happy, weren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“I was confused, too, but this little mess helped me sort it out.”

“Good for you,” Sucy said flatly. After a moment, she turned to the side with a touch of embarrassment. “I actually meant that. It’s good and I’m glad.”

“I know,” Smoke said. “You’re a weird little eel, Sucy Manbavaran, but you’re good at heart.”

Sucy snorted. “Are you sure?”

“You… have a good side.” Smoke grinned and Sucy felt a twinge of jealousy at her terrifying dental battery. “You’ll give more to the world than you take.”

“Ramzan said something like that. Why are you all so hung up on that?”

“I live by drinking life from people. I have to justify what I am, and my continuing existence. You shouldn’t think like that, though. It gives me a complex.”

“Think you gave me one, too.”

“Blame Lotte for that one,” Smoke said. “You should let her closer and see what happens. Think of it as an experiment. Interpersonal alchemy. In fact, now that we’re separate, I can see…” She trailed off and hummed softly.

“…what can you see?” Sucy asked. “What is it?”

“You have lots of bonds. More than I’d have guessed. Wow, I never knew you were such a romantic.”

“ _What?_ ” Sucy gasped, flapping and squirming as though covered in bugs. “Where are they? Who? What are you talking about?”

“I was worried about leaving you with all these sentimental little witches, but now I see you fit right in!” Fairy Smoke snickered and spread her mighty fins, answering Sucy’s curses with a wingover as she escaped.

* * *

_The World of Fairy Smoke_

Smoke was used to passing through darkness and popping up in new places, so it was like she’d never left. She lay on her pallet deep beneath Tor’s Shade, in the lost warrens only her people could reach. The only thing that disoriented her was that she wasn’t alone; her dear Ampelos was stretched out alongside her with one arm behind her head and the other across her chest. Their shade mingled throughout the room, and the borders between their amorphous pools of darkness were as clear as Ampelos’s purple hair wound through Smoke’s pink.

“Nervous?” Ampelos asked, caressing her cheek.

“Nope.”

“Huh, you aren’t.” Ampelos drew back and squinted. “You were ready to shoot through the roof just a moment ago. What’s going on, here?”

“Annabel will handle herself fine,” Smoke said languidly. In retrospect, all that anxiety over the girl’s trust in her was ludicrous. “And I can keep her safe. All I have to do is stand there and look scary.”

“Do we know who’s Calling her?”

“No, but I can handle whoever it is.” Smoke yawned. “Also, I think I just went to another dimension and saw your friend. If that wasn’t just an incredibly vivid dream, she’ll be on her way soon.”

Ampelos shot up, eyes flying wide. Instead of their people’s usual red, hers glowed unearthly green, cooling the room with their light. “I’m sorry, _what?_ The Sandpiper’s coming back?”

“I think so. I’ll keep a watch on your bonds to see if she turns up.”

Ampelos stared into the dark, clutching her hands over her chest. Smoke waited patiently and wondered over her eyes. _Does it have to do with being from another world, or a sorceress? I wonder if that Sorcerer’s Stone thing would hurt her…_

“Are you happy?” Smoke finally asked. “What’s that look on your face?”

“I’m so happy it disgusts me,” Ampelos admitted in an unsteady voice. “I almost can’t handle it.”

“Huh,” Smoke sat up alongside her. “Will you come back to visit?”

“You’re assuming I’ll leave with her. We don’t even know if I _can_.”

“If I could, you could. And if you can’t leave the regular way, it was a weird magic thing, so you can probably figure it out.” Smoke paused. “I wish I remembered more about that; I was a witch there. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

Ampelos gave her a smile. “I’d better go tell Kimberly. Are you due to see Annabelle soon?”

“I have to help her sneak out, yeah.” Fairy Smoke glided to her feet and a dress condensed out of her shade. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Wait, did Kimberly forgive you?”

“Yeah. Kim’s a big softy. She hasn’t forgiven _you_ , though, and she still has that plasma blaster, so watch out.”

Smoke grimaced and nodded. “And does she still call you by the wrong name?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean the same thing to me. I’m Ampelos here, in this world, but I can still be Joanna out there.” Ampelos laid a hand on Smoke’s arm. “I won’t leave without saying goodbye, and I _will_ come back. This is my home, now.”

Throughout the conversation, Smoke had been bracing for the moment she’d start feeling like an impostor, when she’d realize that she wasn’t capable of love and this all must be some bizarre game. It always came… but this time it didn’t.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Smoke said easily, and two great mantas sliced out into the dark.

* * *

_Lotte’s Beam_

“So… girls, huh?” Lotte asked.

“So!” Jan replied, a little too loudly. “ _Vampires_ , huh?”

Lotte giggled bashfully. “Vampires weren’t real until all this happened. It was just an idea I could play with.”

They were the same height, but Jan _felt_ taller. Part of it was her stouter build and longer hair, but more important was her bearing: feet apart, hand posted on hip, confident eyes, and that gorgeous deep voice. She was just _bigger,_ in every way. _I can see why everyone was falling for her…_

“And all of this was fantasy for me.” Jan clapped a hand to her neck. “Okay, but can we talk about your taste in women? Sucy Manbavaran? _Really?_ ”

Lotte wilted for a moment, then straightened angrily. “Do you have room to talk? You’re dating _Barbara Parker!_ ”

“You—!” Jan blurted, then threw out her hands. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry. I started that wrong. Let’s start over without insulting people the other loves, okay?”

“They’re different people, anyway,” Lotte agreed, sagging in relief. “Your Sucy isn’t mine, and same with the Barbaras.”

“Yeah, but… hm. It seems like we’re okay with a little cruelty, if it’s not aimed at us. Your Sucy still pulls those awful pranks, and my Barbara is… not the nicest person sometimes. A lot of times.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lotte said. “It’s funny, but now that you mention it, I think I wouldn’t feel safe in that room if Sucy treated me the way she does Akko. I wonder if Akko’s okay with it. She grumps about it sometimes, but she has fun complaining, so maybe that’s okay?”

Jan’s face went through a few complicated expressions.

“And Akko doesn’t need me to protect her,” Lotte added, watching her.

“That’s a problem I have,” Jan admitted slowly. “I’ve got to change the way I think about some people, and my Akko’s one of ‘em. You felt it too, right? Early on, we were confused because she wasn’t all delicate and quiet? I always tried to look after her, but just now… we almost screwed up your world because of it. Croix offered to let us protect Akko, never mind what she wanted, and because of me…”

“I don’t know if…”

“We were conflicted, right? You wouldn’t have gone along with Croix’s plan.”

Lotte pondered this. “Probably not, you’re right.”

“See? And _you’re_ the kind of person I would want to take under my wing: so quiet, nervous, eager-to-please… that must be why I agreed to come.” Jan massaged her forehead. “But then I _was_ you, and we didn’t need someone like me to look after us. And then we went and threw ourselves into a magical fairy war, and that was _all you._ Okay? And we were just… supporting the fairies, who knew what to do, and we trusted them? And I _never_ could have done that! I just bulled in here and messed everything up for you! Can you imagine how I would’ve screwed up your Akko’s quest, with the Shiny…?”

“ _Stop,_ ” Lotte said sharply. “You’re being absurd.”

Jan sputtered to a halt.

“I’m just trying out something you showed me.” Lotte folded her hands demurely. “It feels good to be a little louder sometimes! So, thank you.”

Jan steadied herself with a few deep breaths. “Well, I’m glad I could help you out. Heh. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good anxiety spiral.”

“Do you know your way home?”

“Yeah, somehow, I do. It’s as easy as falling asleep…”

“That’s another way we’re different,” Lotte said. “One last thing, if that’s okay with you?” She paused to confirm. “We had that scare early on… I’m just really glad that you’re a girl, too.”

“Now _you’re_ being absurd,” Jan said. “The ritual asked you who you _wanted_ to be, right?”

“Oh.” Lotte giggled awkwardly. “Oh, right.”

“Anyway, let’s not make this mushy.” Jan gave her a cheerful wave and slipped away.

* * *

_The World of Jan_

Once again, Jan was gazing into a deep blue summer sky, and her familiar, soft body settled around her like a blanket. She sat against the bole of an old oak alongside Barbara, who had a hand on her knee and her head on her shoulder. An ancient, oft-repaired mp3 player rested on the grass between them, and each had half of its headset softly howling _Nightwish_ into their ear.

“This noise is disgusting,” Barbara murmured in a loving tone. “I’m switching us to Gotye after this song ends.”

Jan might have snarked back, but her head was still swimming.

“And… done,” Akko said softly. She turned her sketchpad around to reveal a shockingly detailed pencil drawing of the couple in their idyllic pose. “It’s good to be done with this assignment.”

Barbara perked up and leaned in for a better look. “Am I really that hot? Ha!” She elbowed Jan. “Maybe your taste in girls isn’t so bad after all.”

“Better than your taste in music,” Jan said, retrieving her earbud. Lotte’s traumatic bullying memories were gone, thankfully. It was just unsettling to realize that her hours-long adventure in another world, if that’s what it was, hadn’t happened for anyone else. _Who can I tell about this?_

“Are you okay, Jan?” Akko asked, once her drawing was properly stowed. “You look confused.”

“I have that effect on her,” Barbara said smugly, starting away to her next class. She half-turned and pointed back to Jan with both hands. “We still on for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, I’ll e—” Jan remembered they weren’t alone and tripped on her innuendo. “—look forward to it, dear.”

Barbara cackled as she left, and Akko hid a smile.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Jan asked as she and Akko started for the north campus.

Akko cocked her head. “You don’t usually ask before doing that.”

“I’m trying out something new, I guess. I was just thinking – you know what would look really cute? If you pulled your, uh, the tresses of hair on the sides back into a little tail. Then they wouldn’t be hiding your face! Do you think that’d be a good look?”

“You sound like my mom,” Akko said, then chuckled softly. “Maybe I’ll try it.”

Jan stewed in uncertainty as they walked. Was that a dumb suggestion to make? Had her attempt to avoid being overbearing come across as weird? Was this even the kind of thing she should be worrying about, or was the problem somewhere else? Is this how the other Lotte felt all the time? Akko seemed to forget about their conversation instantly, looking up to the rushing treetops, so maybe this had been a good thing to test with.

“Something _Fortean_ happened to you, didn’t it?” Akko asked suddenly.

Jan returned to the present. “Fortean?”

“Something spooky and mysterious, that you can’t explain!” Akko burst to life and took Jan’s wrist with both hands, smiling brightly. “It has, right? I know that look. You can tell me!” 

“I—maybe?” Jan squeaked, off-balance. “You know the look? It’s that common?”

“Not really,” Akko said, releasing her. Her smile faded a little without disappearing. “Well, kind of? It’s just like… if it _did,_ I don’t want you to be alone with it.”

Jan stopped in her tracks. Akko’s implication was a little too much to process at the moment. “Um, Akko? Isn’t your class that way?”

“What? Oh! _Pff._ What would I do without you?” Akko slapped her forehead and ran off.

 _Well, I can still help her out a little._ Jan gave the summer sky another grateful look and set out for Biology. _And maybe she can help me…_

* * *

_Akko’s Beam_

Dame Kagari was in her early thirties, which came as a shock to Akko. Did being an adult really feel so much like being a teenager? The knight wore her breastplate and cape, with a helmet resting against her hip, and she was even buffer than her memories suggested. Looking at her made Akko feel like a scarecrow, but… not in the worst way. _I’m me again! If I want to look like that, it’ll feel better if I hit the gym and_ Phaidoari _some_ Afairynghor _myself, ease into it._

“Oh, jeez,” Dame Kagari blurted, looking away.

“What? Hey, what?” Akko cried.

“By the Third, you’re adorable,” Kagari said. “I just took you into battle, and you’re barely old enough to be a squire!”

Akko stomped her foot. “Are you kidding? _I_ took _you_ into battle! Come on!”

“No, I…” Kagari trailed off and the two blinked at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. “Actually, do we know which one of us did what?”

“Um… I was the one with the…” Akko scratched her head. “Well, you did the swording.”

“Did I? Do you think I know how to strike with the momentum of shapeshifting from a mouse? That’s not something they teach in fencing school.”

“Is it important where everything came from?” Akko asked with a careless flap of her hand. “I think we did pretty good! The monster’s beaten, we saved Lotte, and you’re all going home! Yay!”

“Yay,” Kagari agreed. “I can’t argue with those results. And now you’re going to save your world without a sword! I’ve got to admit, I’m a little envious.”

“I don’t know if I’m doing that anymore,” Akko replied, face falling.

“Ah, your idol,” Kagari said. “You don’t have to forgive Chariot, but didn’t you decide this quest of yours wasn’t about her? Every Word has been an adventure, and I don’t think you regret any of them.”

“If I don’t forgive Chariot, I’ll have to do it alone. I don’t know if I can.”

“Forgive her, or do the quest alone?”

“Yeah,” Akko said. “I mean, both.”

Dame Kagari sighed, crossing her arms. “We both have a lot to learn about putting people on pedestals, don’t we? Your Chariot, my Diana… come to think of it, your Diana’s kind of an enemy icon for you, isn’t she? Or was.”

“Wish I had yours,” Akko said. “She’s fun.”

“Hm. I wonder if your Diana… ah, never mind. Can you at least wait to see what message Lotte had for you, from the Rod’s spirit, before you give it up? You might not be alone, after all.”

“I guess I can do that,” Akko said. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

“I took your hand,” Kagari said firmly. “And I’m glad I came. You’re young… and silly… but I believe I’ve learned from you.”

“And you’re _old_ and silly, but you were a big help, too!”

Kagari started to turn away, laughing, but paused. “Yes, I am old. Older than your Chariot, in fact. So, can I tell you something from that perspective?”

Akko tilted her head.

“If you’re knocking Chariot off of one pedestal, don’t put her on another, as a demon. We don’t figure everything out when we reach a certain age. She might not be a competent, put-together person manipulating you out of malice – it could be foolishness, or weakness, or confusion. She may be just as lost as you feel. You still don’t have to forgive her, but when you’re dealing with her, keep that in mind.”

“Hm…” Akko shivered. “Is it weird that I hate that idea even more than her just being cruel?”

“It isn’t,” Kagari assured her. “I trust you, Akko. You’d make a good errant.”

Akko looked up with a weary smile. “And you’d be a terrible witch.”

Recognizing the compliment, Kagari chuckled and retired.

* * *

_The World of Dame Kagari_

The Fifth Moon’s violet light welcomed Dame Kagari home. She stood slowly, enjoying the warm evening air. _It’s so peaceful out here…_

“I’m—I’m sorry, where did your soul go just now?” Lady Cavendish cried, bursting out onto the balcony. “Did you get sucked into the Wound in the Moon? Are you possessed?”

“Does that happen?”

“Does it _happen?_ ” Cavendish repeated incredulously, on the verge of tears.

Kagari impulsively hugged her.

“Oh,” Cavendish said weakly, and slumped into her. “I was terrified you’d been stolen away, and our last conversation would be me implying you’re not… that you’re not the greatest knight in Starhold. That you’re some kind of…”

Kagari’s heart leapt. “The greatest?”

“Between you and me, the competition isn’t that stiff.” Cavendish pulled back, looking her over. “You seem to be in decent spirits, and… yourself. That’s… that’s good. But we need to get to the bottom of whatever happened. I’ve never sensed anything like it!”

“First, I figured out what I wanted to say,” Dame Kagari said. “Sorry, but I don’t want to forget it.”

“O-okay?” Cavendish said, then let go of Kagari’s arms and ironed herself out. She became taller and cooler, calm but not relaxed. A Lady. “Go ahead, then.”

_Oh, I see. The other Diana, the witch – she was like that all the time. Forcing herself to be composed. Why would she need to do that, and so young?_

“You’re not putting me in danger,” Dame Kagari said. “You’re my lady, and I love you, but I’d still be questing if I were on my own. Traveling and fighting and trying to help people; that’s just what I do. I’d be worse at it, less sure of myself, but I’d still be out there. You said that me idolizing you diminishes us both, but so does your taking the blame for whatever happens to me. Does that… make sense?”

“Hmm. That’s exactly what I was hoping for, and it still stings a little to hear.” Cavendish smiled ruefully, slouching a little. “How silly of me. After all, what were you doing when you first caught my eye?”

“Dueling with Sir Hanbridge of — oh, wait. I was already questing! Yeah. You get it!”

Lady Cavendish nodded, then looked up to the moon. “I’m still a little, ah, anxious. I don’t understand what I sensed at all. Please… what happened to you?”

“I wasn’t stolen away to the moon. It was more like another world. It’s a strange story, but I think I was able to help the people there, at least a bit.”

“I take my eyes off of you for five seconds and you manage to have another adventure? Classic Dame Kagari.” Cavendish took her arm. “Come inside, my knight. I look forward to hearing all about it.”

* * *

_Wangari’s Beam_

Wangari was looking into a gold-tinted mirror. Outwardly, the main difference between them was that the Sandpiper had worse fashion sense. It was wild to think that, with that implanted Dimension Drive, her body was even more alien than the android’s. By silent agreement, the two wandered all over their little extradimensional space, looking for anything interesting, but all they found was soft green light and invisible walls.

“Well, _that_ was a new way to visit a world,” the Sandpiper said, turning back. “Can’t say I was a fan of losing my memories, at first, but you were a good host.”

Wangari smiled. “Was the pun deliberate?”

“Little bit. What will you do now?”

“It looks like I’m going to go back to my school newspaper,” Wangari said. “It… feels so small, now.”

“It shouldn’t,” the Sandpiper replied. “Listen, there’s more than a person could ever see in every world I visit. There’s more to _your school_ than a person could ever see, I’ll bet! I don’t know if you got this in any of my memories, but sometimes I envy the people who get to stay in the worlds I see. I just can’t stop moving.”

“Hmm…” Wangari saw the logic in it, but she still wondered if she could restrain her curiosity knowing about all the worlds out there, full of impossible things.

“Those outlaw muckraker impulses of yours – for all that they got you into this mess, I say to hold on to them. They might make your world scarier and more infuriating, but you’ll see more of it. That’s if you decide to stay, of course. We didn’t just make a ritual to get the visitors home, did we?”

“What will, uh, what will you do?” Wangari asked, suddenly embarrassed.

“I’ve got a full schedule, thanks to you. I’m visiting M3733 again to make sure that Dr. Meridies doesn’t have some evil scheme going, with her Nero Rod. And I’ll have to do a round of those Noir Rod counterpart worlds, and help with any damage they caused. Oh, but first, I’ll be heading back to Creepy Vampire World and finding Jo and Kim.”

“I’m so glad they’re okay,” Wangari said.

“If we can trust…” the Sandpiper started, but hesitated when she noticed Wangari’s expression cooling. “…oh, that’s right. She was fused with your friend.”

“Sucy wouldn’t lie to us about _that._ ” Wangari’s eyes flicked to the side. “Though maybe she bit one of them. We got that vibe.”

“I remember.” 

“That might be a problem,” Wangari said, a little nervously. “We were thinking about this during Barbara’s interview, and a little bit with Lotte.”

“Ooh, you’re tensing! You’re about to say something juicy.”

“If you go and find out Joanna’s a vampire, or whatever Fairy Smoke’s people are called, don’t react like a Caretaker would.”

The Sandpiper raised a hand in irritated confusion. “Why would I—? I’m not—!”

“You’re not really a Caretaker, no. But you learned from them, and how they tried to control every world they found. It’s a part of you. You try to avoid it in your adventures, but do you think it pops up in other places?”

“Clearly you do,” the Sandpiper said slowly. “Or you wouldn’t bring it up.”

“I’m, what’s the word, sensitized! Witches have been responsible for guiding and caring for our communities for centuries. Sometimes we also try to _grab on_ ,” she clutched the air, just like the Sandpiper’s Kim and Jo would do to mock her. “But it can happen on a smaller scale than nations or worlds, right? The responsibility you feel to people can become possessive.”

“Sure, okay, but I _really did_ mess up this time. I was their ride, and I stranded them. I’m not taking responsibility for something I shouldn’t, that was my job! I’ve got to make it right.”

Wangari nodded quickly. “I get that. I do! The thing I’m worried about is – just brace yourself for finding out we were right. Remember from Sucy’s story: they Call to the people they want to bite, right? And the person decides whether to answer? So if you go there and Joanna’s a shadow monster, be careful not to treat it like a tragic consequence of your mistake. Yeah?”

The Sandpiper stared grimly for a few seconds, then said, “Wangari Muthiga, I’m very glad I met you.”

Wangari let a relieved breath out. “You too.”

The Sandpiper took one step for home, but then looked over her shoulder, eyes lifting in a smile. “Be seeing you.”


	14. Time to Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we have come to the end. Please enjoy this 6-ton monster truck of a chapter.

The black hole collapsed, and the Shiny Rod fell cleanly through into Lotte’s hand. She held it aloft like a torch, letting its gold-and-green light wash through the lab. It painted a ring of exhausted, wondering faces – her fellow witches, clustered by trio, slowly recovering. 

Ridiculous! Jan might have been at home shining before a rapt audience, but she was just little old Lotte again.

“Is everyone okay?” she called, lowering the Rod, and the spell broke.

A chorus of moans, whines, and curses answered. That was as good as a positive.

As the Shiny Rod faded, the lab’s light strips came back to fitful life and the witches started to recover. The host of fairy spirits dispersed, galloping out of the universe with spectral cries and salutes to Lotte. Only the portly knight remained behind. He shrank into a mote of green that dove into Lotte’s satchel, and she pulled her lantern out to let the little guy breathe.

Everyone found their feet quickly except for Akko and Diana, sitting at opposite ends of the circle. Akko looked around brightly, watching her friends recover, but Diana just stared into space.

The stanbots filed down to wait by Constanze’s side as she jumped up into Jasminka’s arms. 

“It’s okay now,” Jasna said. “Everything’s okay, right?”

Constanze nodded emphatically and hopped back. That was enough hugging.

Wangari drifted around with an awkward smile until Lotte tapped her arm and drew her into Red Team’s circle.

“I missed you so much,” Hannah said into Barbara’s chest.

“You two were all over each other all day!” Sucy protested.

“But she wasn’t _my_ Hannah, and now I have her back,” Barbara explained, stroking Hannah’s ponytail. “So lay off.”

“Blech,” Sucy said, then immediately shuffled over to Lotte’s side and put an arm around her. “That’s not all, is it?”

“Not quite,” Lotte said, resigned, and cleared her throat. “Akko, I remembered the message, but really it’s for everyone here. I, uh, talked to the spirit of the Shiny Rod, and it’s interested in all of us in this circle.”

Everyone looked up warily. Wangari spoke for them all when she asked, “ _Really?_ ”

“Sorry,” Lotte said, then held the Rod toward Akko. “Here’s the message: you don’t have to be alone!”

Akko reflexively reached out and took it. “I don’t have to be what?”

“First, umm… does everyone know what this is?” Lotte called over her head.

Diana sighed and stood up. Hands folded as though she were reciting in class, she gave everyone a brief recap on the Grand Triskelion, the state of magic, and the role of the _Claiomh Solais_ and the Seven Words of Arcturus in reversing its decline. For a moment, her eyes were sharp as she took her audience in, but then she went bleary again and sat back down.

Akko applauded, startling everyone.

“For the past few decades, witch after witch has taken up the _Claiomh Solais_ and set out to break the seal – but they’ve always been alone in their quest, the sole bearer, and they’ve always failed. Even with help and support, it can’t be done alone.” Lotte held out a hand and Wangari tossed her a water bottle. Her voice was going to be _gone_ after all of this. “It wasn’t one witch who reawakened magic sixteen hundred years ago, it was nine, with the help of the whole world they could reach. I don’t… I don’t know who should make up the new Nine, but the ten of us could be among them, if we want to be. And if we do it, we’ll have to be ready to support each other, and accept the risks the others take, and pull our weight. That’s the message.”

The students took about five seconds to process the fact that they might be heirs to the most famous witches in history, and then the barrage fell.

“We’re really gonna save magic?”

“Akko’s been doing _what?_ Why Akko?”

“Screw you, Barbara! Why _any_ of us?”

“Wait, there are ten of us! Is one of us getting kicked out?”

“Can we back out? Is this a destiny thing?”

“How are we supposed to do this?”

“I don’t know,” Lotte said, again and again. “It was just a message. I don’t…”

Sucy abruptly threw a bottle from her sleeve and it burst like a flashbang. “Everyone shut the fuck up!” she howled. “Leave Lotte alone! She’s done!”

“Thanks,” Lotte said, and slumped into her arms.

“I don’t think it’s the time to grapple with an idea like this,” Chariot called from outside of the circle. “All of you girls need to get some rest. I’m going to try and get you a break from your lessons. You need time to process what just happened, and let your bodies recover from the ritual.”

“What are we gonna do with Croix?” Darius asked.

Chariot turned, and, seeing her expression, none of them wanted to know the answer anymore.

“Process this, she says,” Hannah said. “Is everyone else losing the memories from the other side, or is it just me?”

“And thank goodness!” Jasminka said brightly.

“I’ll get the interview transcripts back to you as fast as I can,” Wangari said. It was unsettling to hear her so monotone, but nobody could blame her, and she looked determined. “And if anyone wants to interview to talk about, just, all of this, I’d be up for that. We should have a record, especially if some of us could end up in the history books.”

The group lapsed into a general murmur as they struggled to figure out what to do with themselves. Chariot turned away from them and cast a delicate mesh over Jasminka’s breach in the wall, then another over the hole left by the Noir Dragon’s first death ray. The tower was still swiss cheese, but that kept the worst of the wind out.

“I don’t understand,” Croix said to no one in particular, alone in her corner. “I planned for every possibility.”

Diana returned from space to say, “But this was impossible, was it?”

They might have shared a moment of understanding, but the entire faculty chose that moment to sweep in through the breach and descend like a murder of crows. They wore black cloaks and leering white masks, and had fitted their wands with stocks. Nobody at the school had needed that grim panoply in decades.

“No injuries on the students!” Professor Wulfiue announced.

“No poisons!” Professor Lukić crowed.

“All this junk is dead!” Professor Nelson called.

“No enchantments on these two!” Professor Galido said.

A suit of armor lifted the mask on its visor to reveal Professor Pisces in her bowl, who finished the report with some informative blubs.

At the end of a maelstrom of shields, scanning spells, and defensive maneuvers, the professors were arrayed in two semicircles, each training a thatch of laser sights at either Chariot or Croix. Chariot stood with her hands up, laughing nervously, but Croix hadn’t risen from her corner.

A tall figure stepped forward from the formation and Finneran pulled her mask off. Her voice was like the crack of a breaking glacier. “ _Explain._ ”

* * *

The teachers had agreed to give the girls a few days off to recover, though Chariot hadn’t been so lucky. (Croix had been even less so, though how much less would be determined by the upcoming trial.) So it was that when sunlight filtered into the windows of Red Team’s room on Sunday, it was the start of a vacation. This wasn’t what any of the teams had been planning when they set out on that moonless Friday night, but it wasn’t a bad outcome.

Akko had expected to be angry and tired and miserable – she almost _wanted_ to be – but it seemed that she was stuck feeling refreshed. She sat up with a tremendous yawn, swung her feet out of bed, and blinked into the soft wintry light of what she was forced to admit was a beautiful morning. She tried smiling and it didn’t feel false. _Holy crap. I’m going to be okay, aren’t I? Holy crap!_

Was a good night’s sleep really that magical? Akko started to giggle, then laugh out loud, slapping her knees. Nothing was really that funny, and she’d probably be mad again later, and a thousand questions about the Shiny Rod swirled in her mind like bees, but it still felt _good_. Everything would be okay, somehow.

Lotte gave her a bemused smile, then went back to her reading. Sucy was nowhere to be seen.

There _was_ one bit of catharsis she needed to see to, though. Akko turned and looked the Shiny Chariot poster over, holding sour-sweet memories on her tongue. She worked her thumb under its edge and tensed to rip, but hesitated, remembering the knight’s advice. _“It could be foolishness, or weakness, or confusion. She may be just as lost as you feel.”_ Did that change anything? Should it?

_Maybe I don’t have to decide yet…_

“Professor Callistis really was Shiny Chariot?” Lotte asked.

“Huh?” Akko blinked over her shoulder and slowly released the poster. “Yeah. I guess so. All this time, I was trying to meet her, and she was right there. Wild, huh?”

“I thought I recognized her, but I wasn’t sure. How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. I was mad when I found out, obviously. Still am. But… Chariot was the only teacher who really pulled for me. She spent hours and hours helping me with the most boring, basic spells. She never yelled at me for messing up because she got that I was trying my hardest, and she let me keep trying. I would’ve flunked out by now if not for her! So it’s hard to just forget all that… I guess I’m just all mixed up.”

“I don’t know how I’d react to something like that. I’d probably cry my eyes out.”

“No, we saw, didn’t we?” Akko bounced back to the edge of the bed. “You met Annabelle Crème, and she turned out to be a brat, right? But then you didn’t cry your eyes out, you helped her!”

“She wasn’t a…!” Lotte started, then shook her head. “I mean – I see what you mean. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have called her that. It’s kinda nice that you’re speaking up more!” Akko tried to be tactful, but the question just popped out. “Are we really that annoying?”

“What? No.” Lotte leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her stomach. “I get annoyed sometimes, but it’s no big deal. I think it’s just a normal part of knowing people, and it usually passes.”

“But if we _kept_ annoying you, you’d tell us, right? Like if it started to suck to be around us?”

Lotte hesitated, then laughed softly. “I think I wouldn’t have before I met Jan – the other Lotte – but now I might. I guess we’ll see.”

“Okay.” Akko wasn’t quite satisfied, but maybe she’d just have to be more careful. She glanced back to the poster. “Y’know, one nice thing about this is that I don’t have to wonder what happened to Chariot anymore. There’s still stuff I don’t know, but…”

“At least she didn’t eat a bad mushroom and die,” Lotte agreed, and they both looked to Sucy’s prized Doomcap. It still had a band-aid over the tweezer wound, but seemed healthy enough. “I don’t think Sucy’s allowed to have that, is she?”

“We’re not dead yet.” Akko reclined back onto the bed and yawned again. “Why am I still so sleepy, though?”

“Long-term transformation magic tires you out,” Lotte explained. “This wasn’t like _Metamorphie Faciesse_ – if we hadn’t undone the ritual, the changes never would’ve worn off. That puts a lot of stress on our bodies, especially for the ones who changed more. You should take it easy at least for today, and you’ll get feeling better in a day or two.”

“Aw, man, I’m terrible at taking it easy!” Akko bounced in place, shoulders then hips, without rising. “How’d you get to know so much about this?”

“Oh, I’m trans.” Despite her casual tone, Lotte darted her a quick, gauging look. Her voice was a little higher as she continued. “I went through a magical transition a few years ago, and it knocked me out for the day. The follow-up appointments do sometimes, too, but there aren’t many left.”

“Huh.” Akko thought that she should have more to say, but her mind had gone blank. The first thing to surface was, “Are you… happy with it?”

“Yeah. There were times I wasn’t sure, but I am.”

“Then I’m glad. We’d never have met, otherwise!” Akko shot upright when Lotte laughed. “What? What did I say?”

Lotte shook her head. “It’s good to have you back, Akko.”

“I, uh, still don’t get it, but same!”

* * *

“…and I hope you understand,” Headmistress Holbrooke said. “This isn’t a punishment. We’ve just realized that we’ve been putting too much weight on your shoulders.”

 _That’s right. It was a mistake to trust me._ Diana stared down at her hands, wishing that it _were_ a punishment. That would have been easier to deal with.

Holbrooke seemed to understand. “We’ve failed in our responsibility to you, Diana. After you saved the Jennifer Memorial Tree, and got the school’s debt to Fafnir annulled…”

“Akko saved the memorial tree,” Diana said dully. “I tried to tell Professor Finneran.”

“Oh, Anne sometimes has a hard time separating her idea of students from the actual people in front of her eyes,” Holbrooke said. “Don’t tell her I said that, of course. Anyway, we came to rely on you, when, as your teachers, we should be the ones to guide and protect you. You’re already assisting in three professors’ research projects and tutoring many of your classmates; keeping you on as a prefect is a step too far, in my view. I hope you can take this opportunity to enjoy your youth a little bit more, and see what school life can offer.”

“For as long as I’m here,” Diana agreed.

Holbrooke clasped her hands and asked, neutrally, “The Venusian Eclipse is coming up, isn’t it?”

 _And what will I do about it? If I’m not even fit to be a prefect…_ “Yes.” Diana should have had more to say, but thinking about the ascension ritual had raised a stone wall in her brain. “It is.”

Seeing the topic exhausted, Holbrooke gestured to a couch and coffee table in the corner of the room. “You look like you need some rest, dear. I need to run a staff meeting in the next room, but you can lie down here until you’re feeling up to heading back.”

Diana thought to object, but there was no force behind it. Ever since parting with Diana Bar, she’d felt _more_ like a robot, empty of emotion and will. And _very_ sleepy. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

Holbrooke seemed about to say more, but then departed for the conference room. Diana looked after her, faintly puzzled, then wandered over and lay down on the couch as teachers filtered through. Except for a sideways glance from Finneran, none of them paid her any mind. Settling into the cushions, she closed her eyes for a moment and then snapped awake to Professor Nelson’s raised voice.

“We’re lucky that none of the students were hurt! And it _was_ luck – we were completely helpless. I’m as glad to be rid of Croix as you, but if those machines are keeping the fairies from running wild again…”

“ _That woman_ ripped a student’s soul out and cast her into the outer darkness!” Finneran countered. “Why we haven’t crushed every single one of her machines to scrap and sealed them in our deepest vault, I couldn’t guess!”

“Jansson’s a witch,” Lukić said. “She’s probably done worse to herself while we weren’t looking.”

“Oh, no, Vesna, don’t you—!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never turned yourself into a pumpkin? Summoned a demon? Made a bad deal with a conniving old baba yaga?” Lukić cackled heartily. “Croix may be young for the role, but…”

“Laying that aside,” Babcock cut in, “The SSS Collectors might be keeping us magically solvent and the fairy workers happy, but they’ll be a serious drain on the school’s finances without Croix’s grant to pay for them. As painful as it is, we’ll likely have to get rid of them on those grounds alone.”

 _They’re arguing about the Sorcery Solution System,_ Diana realized. She rolled over and put it from her mind; despite her recent misadventure, magitronics weren’t her cup of tea. It had been an interesting experience, though, relying on Constanze’s device to live. It hadn’t bothered her much at the time, but now the memory was nightmarish – walking around with only that tenuous thread of magic trickling into her heart to keep her moving, always centimeters from collapsing into an inert object.

One eye drifted open. Holbrooke had mentioned the school’s debt to Fafnir, and now another memory rushed back. The old dragon had tried to collect on that debt by stealing the Sorcerer’s Stone from its tower, robbing the students of their magic and leaving the fairy staff sprawled all over the campus, unable to move. While it had been a strange transformation for her, depending on the Stone’s light was just a fact of life for the fairies. If Babcock got her way, they would all end up like she’d been, living on a narrow trickle…

_And I had the gall to scold them for demanding more?_ Diana was suddenly standing, eyes wide, panting. _I can’t let the teachers do this!_ Without another thought, she took three big steps and threw the door open. Professor Stolas stopped in midsentence and looked up at her with piercing golden eyes; everyone was staring, though less arrestingly.

“You can’t—!” Diana changed gears in mid-thought. “You—the fairies need the magic from those collectors! If the school can’t afford them, I’m—I’m sure I could release some funds from the Cavendish Trust, at least enough to keep them for the year!”

An awkward silence fell. A few of the teachers looked to Holbrooke for cues, but she just sat thoughtfully, hands folded on the pommel of her staff.

Finneran was the first to speak. “I would advise against trying to buy your special privileges back, Ms. Cavendish.”

That knocked Diana back on her heels. She felt like she was floating for a moment, and then realized that she was _furious._ She was so far beyond angry that her body didn’t even know how to react. “If that’s what you think I’m doing,” she said coldly. “Then I invite you to take the money and expel me. Please excuse my intrusion.” She turned on her heel and left.

Hannah and Barbara had been waiting outside Holbrooke’s office. _When did they get here? Don’t they have anything better to do?_ As she stalked past, Hannah followed her, and Barbara slipped through to listen in on the meeting. Twenty different responses came to mind, but only one made it through Diana’s anger. Without turning, she said, “I had thought we agreed that you would no longer be acting as my lackeys?”

“Hey,” Hannah said.

Diana turned with a reply on her lips, but found Hannah pointing into her face.

“Would you get _over_ yourself? We’re not being lackeys, we’re being _friends_. And if you can’t tell the difference, then maybe…!” Hannah suddenly flinched back.

“ _What?_ ” Diana sobbed, and that’s how she learned that she was crying. She raised her hands to her face in bewilderment and forced the rest out between harsh breaths. “Oh. I’m—I’m sorry. I’ll get this under control.”

“For pity’s sake,” Hannah sighed, and grabbed her in a hug. “Just shut up and let it out!”

Diana did her best, but she was out of practice. Every sob took her by surprise, a punch to the gut. At first, she struggled to put her thoughts in order and explain herself, but she quickly gave up on talking, and then thinking. Finally, the painful knots in her shoulders and temples started to unwind, and her breath eased. She had no idea how long it took, but Hannah held her patiently through it.

“Feeling better?” Hannah asked as she pulled away.

“Oddly, yes.” Diana looked to the heavy overcast sky and heaved a deep sigh. Snowflakes were melting into a glittering pattern on the window. “I must apologize.”

“It’s okay,” Hannah assured her. “Everything’s messed up right now. I understand.”

“All the same, I promise that I won’t make a habit of crying to get my way.”

Hannah snickered and Diana smiled wanly. Jokes still worked on her. At least that much hadn’t changed. 

“Second period is almost over; halls will be full of people in a few minutes,” Hannah said. “You wanna head home?”

 _Imagine everyone seeing you like this…_ Diana nodded briskly. “Please.”

Hannah took her hand and they walked swiftly through the dim, quiet halls, reaching Blue Team’s door without any encounters. As soon as they were out of sight, Diana let her composure drop in increments until she flopped bonelessly into bed. Hannah hovered on the border between Diana’s little domain and the rest of the room, then pulled the chair of Diana’s desk out and sat next to her with a decisive _thump_. 

“So, uh, what can I do for you?”

Diana turned her head to the side. “I don’t know what can be done.”

Hannah smiled uneasily. “Aw, come on…”

“Sorry – I’m not saying I’m beyond help. I’m just so unaccustomed to feeling like this that I don’t know what to ask for.”

Hannah floundered for a moment, then plunged in with nervous speed. “You could tell me about what you’re thinking, or we could talk about something else to distract you, uh, or you don’t seem like much of a hugger, but we could do that again, if it helped…”

Diana chuckled. “You’re very kind.”

“Well, sometimes,” Hannah admitted. “Other times…”

“Ah, yes… that’s something that I’ve been worrying about on my own account.” Diana sat up and rested her chin on her knees. “I fear that we’ve been needlessly cruel. To Akko, in particular, but also to others.”

“Hm. Yeah.”

“I’ve held an image of what a witch should be, what Luna Nova should be, and I thought that it was my duty to enforce it. It seems foolish now that I’ve seen what the others can accomplish.”

“I’m just a huge bitch,” Hannah said.

Diana snorted.

“No, but I’ve been talking with Barb about it. It’s _fun_ to pick out a target and sharpen our claws on ‘em… but the way we’ve been doing it seems stupid now. She wants to be more artful, I guess, but I just want to have a reason for it.”

“I… can’t speak to that. I had thought I had a reason, but perhaps it was merely my arrogance.”

“Or maybe you had something to teach, even if you were doing it wrong.”

“If I can separate my lessons from my presumption, perhaps… but… Hannah, I… you’ve really…” Diana looked away.

“No, I’m gonna make you say it this time,” Hannah said. “I want to hear it.”

Diana took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You are a dear friend to me, and Barbara as well. Wherever our lives take us, I hope that we may remain close.”

“Rehearsed?”

“No.” Diana tilted her head, thinking of a visit she was putting off. “Perhaps this _was_ the rehearsal.”

Hannah nodded slowly and sat back, satisfied.

“And are _you_ doing well?”

Hannah visibly stumbled on the question, then smiled tentatively. “Well, yeah. I really am. I was… I don’t know, it’s like I woke up from a nightmare. It feels great. Barb’s here, and I’m myself again, and I got all the memories of her I’d been losing back… by the way, did you notice that Barbara seems more, I don’t know, present? Alert, anyway.”

“I hadn’t, but I believe you.”

“I’m mostly just trying to give her some space now; she’s usually the clingy one, but… oh!”

Barbara swept into the room, eyes glittering in a malicious smile. “You should’ve _heard_ Holbrooke ream Finneran out,” she said, then slipped into a terrifyingly accurate impression. “’Stop acting like your idol’s failed you, Anne! Treating a new student like they’re responsible for holding up the school – our conduct has been shameful! She’s a _child!_ ’” Noticing Diana starting to bristle, she finished, “Well, they’re all ancient, anyway. _Ursula’s_ a child to them.”

Diana flopped back, then rolled to face away from them and half-curled.

“It’s good to see you up,” Barbara said softly.

Diana rolled back, startled. “What?”

“I was starting to get worried,” Barbara admitted. “When you just slept through Sunday. It still seems like you’re not all there, but I hope you’re getting better.”

“Oh.” Diana considered for a moment. “Yes, I am. I just need to think, and rest, and… reconsider. I’ve made a hash of my great grandmother’s astral lens ploy, but I may yet perform the ascension ritual at the appointed time. If I… if I’m able to.”

“And if you can avoid the…”

“I told you, Hannah, there won’t be assassins. Aunt Daryl won’t hurt me.”

Hannah spread her hands.

“Would you be able to stay at Luna Nova, if you did that?” Barbara asked.

Diana tried to answer, but instead felt herself slowly deflating. She drew another breath, but the answer still refused to come. She didn’t really even know, anymore. She’d had a plan before all of this, but now the idea seemed so overwhelming…

Barbara finally let her off the hook. “Guess it’s not the time to talk about that, huh?”

“ _Definitely_ not,” Hannah agreed.

 _Probably for the best. It would be embarrassing if I started crying again._ The thought made Diana laugh softly. “That’s right. I’m far too fragile, at the moment.”

Hannah threaded her hands behind her head. “Man, I can’t wait for things to get back to normal.”

“They won’t,” Diana said.

“What?”

“That’s something I learned from… another event. Our self-concepts and relationships were just severely shaken, and it would only be more painful and confusing to attempt to go back to where we were. We’ll have to decide who and what we are _now_.” Diana turned her gaze to the ceiling. “I’m sorry if I sound morose. Would you prefer that we talk about something lighter?”

“I vote yes,” Barbara said quickly. “Got anything in mind?”

“We could talk about…” Diana racked her brain for a meaningless topic. “…boys?”

Hannah laughed out loud and stood. “That reminds me! Barb, I had a message for you from Hannah Bar!” She marched across the room, swept Barbara off of her feet, and kissed her.

* * *

Amanda was a girl again. She was… pretty sure. This was all new to her, after all.

She’d thought their little vacation would give her some time to figure it all out, but all she’d accomplished so far was getting even more confused and bouncing off the walls with boredom, in between frequent naps. She’d finally moved to her desk to poke at the insultingly easy homework from Basics of Elemental Magic, wondering if Professor Octavian would be surprised to see her turning it in for once.

 _If I’m gonna take this place for all it’s worth, I might have to suck up a little,_ she mused. _I hope I don’t get too used to it…_

Jasminka arrived with a big bag of McCoy’s crisps and settled into her desk, opening a book with one hand. For a time, the two of them worked in companionable silence.

“You’ve been quiet since, y’know, everything,” Amanda said.

“Hm?” Jasminka looked up from her book. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“I’m not sure I’m worried. You look so much better! Like, better than before all this happened.”

“Thank you!” Jasminka tilted the bag of crisps towards Amanda, and when she declined, sealed it. “I _feel_ better. I used to be so scared, but now I don’t have to be.”

Amanda swiveled to face her properly and rested her cheek on a fist. “Well, what happened?”

“It’s because of my demon. I was always really worried that I’d hurt someone, so I had to never even think of it. I couldn’t ever get angry, or scared… but then the Queen showed me what it was like to _actually_ be a dangerous person, and I realized I maybe wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, and I was one of your generals, over there?”

“Long dead,” Jasminka said sadly. “I should still be careful, but I’m totally different from her. Maybe I can let myself get mad now and again, or upset, or… even really happy? I thought it would scare people if I got too rowdy, but maybe it’d be okay.”

“Hey, yeah, it’d be fun to see you cut loose a little!”

“That reminds me…” Jasminka said, then her smile faded into a thoughtful look. “Hang on, I need to say this right. First… I talked to Barbara.”

Amanda sat up, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah?”

“I’m not mad, but we’ve talked about this.” Indeed, there wasn’t a hint of anger in Jasminka’s voice, which made her next words a little confusing. “If you punch anyone else because of me, I’ll have to punch you. Okay?”

“Okay.” On the one hand, it was hard to imagine feeling threatened by this world’s Jasminka, but on the other, a punch from her would _really_ hurt. “Sorry, Jasna. I just get _so mad_ when people… ngh, like, I’ll listen to you, okay? I promise I won’t beat people up on your account, but being an asshole about someone’s weight is pretty punchworthy, right?”

Jasminka considered. “It is. I just don’t want it to be for me.”

“Gotcha.”

Jasminka hummed happily and set the chips on the top shelf above her desk, then started hunting along the row of snacks for its successor. As she searched, Constanze drew Sucy into the room by her sleeve, opened the chute to the workshop and pointed to it. (Apparently, she’d finally gotten bored of storming up and down the halls with her elbows hitched out like a tiny bulldozer, reveling in her ability to move freely and take up space.) Sucy gave the chute a dubious look, nodded to Jasminka’s wave, and slipped in. Constanze threw them a salute and followed.

“Wonder why Conz chose her,” Amanda said idly.

“I’m a little jealous.” Jasminka selected a bag of toffees. “But seeing her having friends over is a happy flavor.”

Amanda smiled and put her feet up on her desk. “Yeah, I guess so.”

* * *

At the bottom of the chute, Sucy uncoiled and rose. “Nice place,” she said after an appreciative look around the dim, cluttered workshop. “But why me?”

Constanze held up a whiteboard reading, _You’re QUIET._

“Ha.” Sucy paused just long enough to make Conz worry that she’d yell, then said, “Let’s get to work, then.”

And for a couple of hours, they did.

Sucy sat on an old couch and finished some upcoming coursework for Professor Lukić, then started drawing up plans for new distilled charms. There was one in particular that she was dying to try on Akko, a spell that would inflict minor mishaps and injuries in exchange for protection from serious danger. If she could enjoy a bit of schadenfreude and save Akko from getting eaten by a yeti, or whatever, it would be a charm well crafted.

Meanwhile, Constanze started investigating a mysterious, highly advanced calculator app that had appeared in one of her stanbots. Giving up on that, she started pressure-treating some planks that would form the outer hull of her Stanship; despite everything, she was still on track to participate in the Wild Hunt. While the treatment was in progress, she looked at the scans that she’d taken of the fused Diana’s cybernetic body (and kept with her permission), taking notes for her mk2 stanbot design.

Sucy finally stood and stretched, snickering at the truly disgusting _crunch_ her back produced. “This was fun, Conz,” she said. “If you ever want some company… hm?”

Constanze had approached with a diagram depicting a chute leading from Sucy’s bed to an alchemy lab adjoining the workshop. Tiny caricatures of Sucy and Constanze were working in their sections, not looking at each other, but the cute way they were drawn gave it warmth.

Sucy put a hand to her heart. “ _Urgh_ … I mean… sounds good. But let’s put an airlock in, so your side doesn’t get any spores or fumes.”

Constanze looked worried for a moment, but then she smiled and Sucy’s heart lurched again. It was the start of a beautiful adjacency.

* * *

Wangari had mountains of things she wanted to use her break for, particularly transcribing the interviews and distributing them, but instead she spent it loafing around, going to town to make herself comfort food, and sleeping a whole lot. Eventually, she gave in and tried to relax in earnest.

Around the time she surrendered, her good friend Molly McIntyre found her enjoying a bowl of irio on one of the outdoor tables. She conjured a parasol against the approaching rain and sat across from Wangari, thick blue hair settling like the hood of a cloak. The conversation started light and inconsequential, but with strategic questions and smiling eyes, Molly coaxed her into spilling the whole ridiculous story of her weekend.

“…and I love ‘em. I really, actually do,” Wangari finished. “All of them! Even Hannah, for some reason. But thank God none of them took me up on the follow-up interviews. I don’t think I can stand to look at any of them right now. I’m still a little – I’m not quite back from all of that, you get me? I think I’d scream.”

“And that’s why you’re out here,” Molly said. She tapped the table’s parasol with her wand to make sure her conjury was holding. “Enjoying your lunch in the lovely fall weather?”

“Yeah. Thanks for joining me.” Wangari snapped up another spoonful. “Y’know, while we were in the mess, I was sad I didn’t have Joanna and Kimberly with me, but now I’m glad they weren’t a part of it. This way, I get to go home and it’s still cozy.”

“It might’ve been different, if it was them,” Molly suggested.

“Hard to guess how they’d handle it, but then any witch would have to be able to,” Wangari said. “I’ll bet stuff like this happens to students all the time, and everyone involved just keeps it secret. Witches _love_ their secrets.”

“Oh, it happens,” Molly said. “Did you know that I’m almost 300 years old?”

Wangari choked on her lemonade and immediately started fumbling through her pack.

“No notes,” Molly said. “This is off the record.”

“Wait, really? I just told you about a big, crazy adventure I’ve gotta keep a secret, and now you’re laying _another_ one on me?”

“I don’t have to, if you don’t want to hear about it.”

Wangari whined in her throat. If there was one thing she loved more than sharing what she knew, it was soaking new knowledge up. Or was it the other way around? “You wicked, wicked creature!”

“You have no idea,” Molly said, then her smile faded. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I know better than anyone how having a secret can eat you up.”

“Well, I won’t push you into anything you’re not comfortable with, on the record or no.” Wangari pressed her hands on the table, palms down. A firm, deliberate gesture to ground herself. “I was playing up my curiosity, but I don’t want to hear a single thing that you’d regret telling me. I’m not gonna explode or anything. I’ll just feel like it! Heh.”

“I’ll tell you a little, for now,” Molly decided. “Under the library, there’s a hidden room called the Horologium Chamber – like the constellation. My spirit was trapped there for a very long time, and every year I would come to Luna Nova for the first time. I don’t remember most of it, but I get fragments sometimes…”

Wangari stilled her mind and kept pressing on the cold metal. Centered, she became a great listener. It was a sad story, but it wouldn’t poison her like the others had. Why had this been so hard to remember when she was fused?

“Over the centuries, I became something awful – a monster born of loneliness and despair. I don’t know how long I would’ve been stuck there if not for Elsa and Amelia, and the others. My covenmates realized something was wrong, and they led some of their friends into the Horologium Chamber to defeat me, and then save me. I wanted them to seal me so I couldn’t hurt anyone else, but of course they wouldn’t. I’m glad.”

“Do you…” _Do you still have a family? Wow, better not ask that._ “…get to be a normal student now?”

“We’ll find out at the end of the year,” Molly said. “But I have faith.”

“I have a friend who’s experienced something a little like that. It’s demon stuff, in their case. I’ll have to ask them if I can share, but if they say yes, would you want to meet them? They might be someone who can sympathize with what you’re talking about. The feeling dangerous and being a monster thing.”

“A support group, huh? If you trust this person, I’ll give it a shot.” Molly checked her watch. “Aw, crap. I’m gonna be late to Astronomy.”

“I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”

“Oh, Professor Callistis is a pushover. And hey, thanks for listening, Wangari. It’s nice to tell this stuff to someone who won’t freak out.”

“Same to you! Maybe I won’t explode now.”

As Molly ambled away, Wangari started vibrating again. She’d _just_ decided to rest, but her brain wouldn’t stop racing. Too much had happened for her to set it all aside. Too much was _happening_. How could she lie back for a nice nap when—?

Orange-gold flashed in the corner of her eye. She pounced into a jog towards the edge of the woods, and pent-up energy turned it into a run. “Yeah!” she said under her breath. “Feels good! Now, what did I see?”

Someone had been moving through the brush not too deep into the woods. Wangari coasted to a stop in the lee of a hulking oak and gently rested her hand against it. “Pardon me,” she murmured. “I’ll let you get back to your rest in a minute.”

Witches were always respectful of trees. You never knew who they might’ve been.

“Nobody here! Who was just tromping around, then?” she wondered aloud.

“It wasn’t you?” the Forest Ranger Goblin asked at her side. He flipped his green hood back and squinted up at her. “I could swear I saw you out here a few minutes ago. Come with me for a minute, will you? And step where I step; the spirits have had a rough day.”

His reminder made the forest’s grave atmosphere seep into her, a bit. Cooler, slower… it was a relief. As she carefully picked her way in his wake, a few shafts of sunlight cut through the overcast, playing through the swaying branches. The weather never got like this back home; Wangari was glad to have a belly full of irio to warm her.

“It’s not a doppelganger situation, is it?” the Forest Ranger Goblin added. “I should’ve asked before I took you out here.”

“Nope. Extradimensional counterpart.”

“That explains a lot,” the ranger said, without sarcasm. “Here. Whoever it was, they’re a litterer. You wanna take care of that thing for me?”

“That thing” lay in a low-hanging branch, as though the tree were holding it out to them. A long black wand ending in angular prongs, like a sinister counterpart to the one at her belt. Even though she’d lost her visitor’s memories, Wangari still recognized a Caretaker multitool from the notes she’d taken. _For me? But why?_

“Thank you, Ranger!” she said, hefting it awkwardly. It was a lot heavier than it looked. “I know just who this belongs to. I’ll be sure to scold her for you.”

“Whew,” the Forest Ranger Goblin said. “It didn’t disintegrate you.”

“What?”

* * *

Tuesday was summer’s last gasp, and the students were just as antsy to get out and fly around in the warm breeze as they’d been during winter’s debut. Really, they’d take any excuse. The dining hall was mostly empty when Sucy wandered down for dinner and piled a tray with potatoes and green beans, but for once, she didn’t want to sit alone.

“I’ve got your number,” Sucy said, setting her tray across from Diana.

Diana looked up with a start. She’d been nodding off. “I beg your pardon?”

“The vampires from my other world – they don’t call themselves vampires, but come on – live by drawing life from people. They know their power’s taken from others, so they have all these nitpicky rules they try to follow. They’ve got a nasty complex about giving more than they take, but they can never know if they’ve managed it.”

“That’s very interesting, but I don’t…”

“It just sounds familiar.” Sucy flicked her chin up meaningfully.

Diana met her gaze. “Ah. I see.”

“I don’t miss that feeling. I _like_ being a leech.” Sucy took a shaker out of her pocket and sprinkled some lemongrass over her potatoes. It was mixed with one of her experimental potions; she didn’t remember which, but the fumes made her eye water. “I miss moving through shadows, though. Nice to be able to slip away when things get too annoying.”

“I know of a spell that could help you, perhaps. My aunt is able to meld into the shadows of our family manor. The effect is quite different from Sucy Bar’s abilities, but it _does_ make her eyes glow red. I’ll be visiting home in a month or so. If you’re interested, I will attempt to find that spell in the archives and teach it to you.”

Sucy tilted her head slowly to one side. “What’s your angle?”

Diana tilted along with her. “My angle?”

“What do you get out of it?” Sucy continued her tilt to an owlish angle, then straightened when Diana didn’t follow. “I can tell this isn’t just _noblesse oblige_.”

Diana’s eyes lifted. “You just said that you like being a leech.”

“I’m a mistrustful leech. Nothing personal, but we’re not quite friends yet.”

“Ah, yes. I have three reasons: first, I’m interested in learning the spell myself. Second, even if we are not friends, we are likely to be allies in the future, and your ability to move freely was very helpful. Third, my aunt is proud of that spell, and it annoys me. I want more people to know it so that it’s no longer hers alone.”

“Spite,” Sucy said approvingly. “Let’s shake on it, then.”

Instead of recoiling from the illusory snake around Sucy’s wrist, Diana extended a finger to pet it. “Goodness! How did you get your little friend into…? Oh, an illusion.”

“Maybe we can get along after all, Cavendish.”

* * *

Akko’s regular lessons with “Ursula” were on Tuesday evenings, and she wondered if her time off covered them, as well. In the end, she decided that she’d have to face her mentor sooner or later, and she _really_ couldn’t afford to fail next week’s exam in Professor Pisces’s class. The halls seemed smaller and darker when she set out, and the winter chill lapped at her ankles like water. As she neared the Professor’s room, it started to feel like she was walking into a current – despite her resolve, every part of her was pushing back, screaming to put this off just a little longer.

Just as Akko lost her nerve and started to turn back, a sharp call yanked her into a 360. “Akko! Hey, Akko!”

Amanda jogged up and stopped at an awkward distance. She was wearing jeans and sneakers beneath her Luna Nova cloak; it wasn’t the clothes, but something about her bearing made it clear that Darius was away for the moment.

“Hey, Amanda,” Akko said, and enjoyed her friend’s surprise that she’d gotten it right. “What’s going on?”

“There’s going to be a dance for the Mother Shipton Festival coming up, and I thought… well…”

Akko leaned in. “Well…?”

“Oh, don’t be dense!” Amanda cried, turning beet red. “I’m asking you out!”

“Wh-why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, yes!” Akko flailed her arms. “You came out of nowhere! I was surprised!”

“Wait, yes?” Amanda asked. She seemed dumbfounded. “You said yes?”

“Yes!” Akko confirmed. “Let’s go to that dance. Though, fair warning, I’ll probably just stake out the snack table instead of dancing, and I might cause a disaster. Now, why’d you ask me?”

“Uh.” Amanda looked down at her feet. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually… well, I had fun going to the tunnel with you, and through the maze. And you’re pretty cute, and you don’t have a stick up your ass, and… uh… honestly, I don’t know if I’ll be Amanda or Darius when the dance comes, and you seem like you’d be cool with either.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.”

“Are you alright? You look kinda tense. Did I come onto you too strong, or…?”

“No, no. I’m just on my way to see Urs—to see Chariot.”

“Oh,” Amanda said heavily. “Shit. Caught ya at a bad moment, huh? Good luck.”

“Kiss for luck?” Akko suggested impishly, and then squawked in surprise when Amanda actually leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

“A-anyway, see you soon!” Amanda jogged off, trailing a faint whiff of cologne.

Akko took a moment to catch her balance. _Whew._

She rode that warm, fluttery feeling all the way to Chariot’s door. Her hand froze before she could knock, but she kicked the door to avoid breaking momentum. “It’s me,” she called.

The door eased open, and she stepped into the warm light; orangey-yellow, like firelight, rather than the usual deep blue. Ursula was waiting by her table with tea already set out, but when she saw Akko, she swiped a hand across her head and red hair flew wide. No more illusions.

“I was wondering if you’d come,” Chariot said, setting her glasses aside.

“Me too,” Akko admitted.

“I planned out a lesson last week, but you probably have a lot of questions…”

“Why did you lie to me?” Akko asked. “That—I can’t think about anything else until you explain.”

“Shame,” Chariot replied without hesitation. Looking up at her, Akko could see her shoulders quivering, but her voice was steady. “I did something terrible to you before we’d even met. I didn’t know I was doing it, but I was an idiot who didn’t ask enough questions, so it was still my fault.”

“What could you have done? The only time we…” Akko broke off. The only time they’d been near each other was the Shiny Chariot show she’d attended, and now she recognized the tiny cubes that the show’s monsters had been assembled from. “Croix was there, wasn’t she?’

“Did you see what the Noir Rod tried to do to her, right before Jasminka came back? That was a technique called Dream Fuel Spirit – it was taking the power of her dreaming heart for itself. If it had succeeded, she’d have lost her magic. And… it wasn’t the first time one of her creations had used that technique. You see?”

Akko swallowed. “S-spell it out for me.”

“Her first test of the Dream Fuel Spirit was the performance I put on in your homeland. Croix told me that she’d perfected a way for me to get all the magic I needed for my shows, and I didn’t question it. When I learned _what_ I’d been burning, that was the end of my career as a performer, and our friendship. It was too late for you, though.”

“Is… is that…?” Akko fell into her chair. “No, that’s impossible. _You_ did this to me? No.”

“When you came to Luna Nova, and you were a fan, and you had… the problems you did, I could guess what had happened. I knew I couldn’t let the school give up on you.”

“You could have at least told me there was something wrong with me, so I’d know I wasn’t just a useless fuckup!” The bottom fell out of Akko’s anger. She was still too tired to keep it up. “I mean, I am, but…”

“No,” Chariot said firmly. “You’re not. Nobody who’s freed a ghost from a thousand years of torment gets to say that they’re useless. I’m s—”

“Don’t apologize. Just don’t.” Akko knew, intellectually, that Chariot had a point. She wasn’t useless at all. It was just hard to keep a grip on. “S-so then the Shiny Rod chose me, of all people, to… what? What’s all this with a Grand Triskelion?” She was teetering on the edge of _something,_ but if she could keep finding other things to focus on, she wouldn’t have to find out what.

“Diana pretty much explained it. Magic is fading, and the Grand Triskelion is the seed that we need to unseal to bring it back – the World Reconstruction Magic that will shape it for a new age.” Chariot waved to her projector dismissively. “I had a show all ready to explain it to you, but there’s no need now.”

“But why me?”

“Magic will be shaped by the will of the ones who awaken it,” Chariot said. “The Rod’s tests are supposed to find the person – the people – who will give it the best form. Imagine if it was made into a weapon, or a tool to rule from the shadows. A lot of the weird, arbitrary rules of magic were created by the Nine when they last awakened it; not on purpose, but grown from their hearts. Have you ever wondered why magic wasn’t used as a weapon in the War? Believe me, witches from both sides tried.”

“Lotte said something like that. She didn’t want magic to be a mindless force. Does magic have a mind, though?”

“That’s… a complicated question. Witches still get into fistfights over it.” Chariot spread her hands apologetically. “I don’t think the Nine Olde Witches could have imagined a machine like the Noir Rod, but Lotte’s right. It would have been a catastrophe.”

This was too big to handle. It was almost big enough to push her hurt out, which was why she gripped it so tenaciously. “And I’m one of those people?”

“One of them, yes. I’d thought _the_ one, before. Believe it or not, I was going to tell you right about now anyway – when Croix came along, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet much longer.”

“It’s all so much. The quest, and the…” Akko tapped her chest. “I feel like it should be over after everything that’s happened, but there’s still three Words to go, aren’t there?”

“Possibly more. I finally twisted Woodward’s arm — that’s my old mentor — and contacted some past bearers of the _Claiomh Solais_. They didn’t want to talk about it, but I’m pretty charming. It turns out they didn’t all have to speak the same Words.”

“ _What?_ ” Oddly, the news sparked a happy glimmer deep within Akko. “There aren’t just the seven?”

“The Nine Olde Witches didn’t agree on everything, and they knew they were designing their tests for a world they couldn’t imagine. Each had different Words they wanted to add to the final incantation, and different hopes for who would form the Nine. And the _Claiomh Solais_ itself has ideas, as well!”

That meant Akko wasn’t just following in the footsteps of one who had gone before. She wasn’t just imitating Chariot. The quest would be made for her – possibly _by_ her! “So what do we do now? Do we all meet? Do we pass the Rod around until it likes someone?”

“We’re in uncharted territory,” Chariot said. “I don’t know how much I can guide you.”

That brought Akko down to Earth. “And I’m still not sure how much I can trust you.”

“That’s for the best, honestly. I trusted Croix too much, and look what happened to you.”

Akko smiled weakly. “I’m _pretty sure_ that’s not the lesson we’re supposed to take from this, Professor.”

“There isn’t always a lesson,” Chariot said. “Sometimes things just happen.”

“Will Croix be okay?”

“Probably.” Chariot slipped a newspaper out of under her tea set and held it up to show the headline: _MADNESS REVEALED – Genius Inventor Charged with Kidnapping and Attempted Soul Theft_. “Her case is becoming a _controversy,_ and she always wins out in chaotic situations like that.”

Akko looked away. She felt a little queasy to hear that bitterness in Ursula’s – no, Chariot’s voice, but it was almost reassuring. It made her more human.

“I never know what to think about her. The last word I managed to awaken was a simple lesson: gratitude. Remembering the people who helped you to get where you are and hold you up. I woke it by recognizing everything Croix had done for me, and everything she’d sacrificed to get me to that point. It’s so strange how one person can be both the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Yeah…”

Chariot turned back and crossed her arms. “Here’s my suggestion. I can’t be your hero anymore, obviously. And I can’t be your Ursula, either. I’m not holding all the cards – in fact, I don’t know what’s coming next any more than you do – but I can still work with you as a fellow witch. You don’t owe me anything, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to keep helping you.”

Akko turned this over in her mind. Chariot was right; she wasn’t owed anything. All of that help and support had been offered under false pretenses, with an ulterior motive, by the person who’d made them necessary. She could storm out of this room and never speak with Chariot again, and nobody could tell her she was wrong to do it. And yet this was also the person who’d revealed her dream to her, and spent every minute they had together working to help her reach it…

“Okay,” Akko said. “Let’s try it.”

“Okay,” Chariot agreed, and leaned on the table. Akko could see her shoulders relax. “So, should we start by getting you ready for the test on Fish Runes?”

 _I walked right into that._ A rubber band snapped in Akko’s brain, and suddenly they were almost having a normal lesson again. 

_Almost_.

“Okaaay,” Akko groaned, and set about trying to reroute the 9,000-ton freight train in her heart. This wouldn’t be a very productive session, but sometimes the effort was important in itself.

* * *

Diana’s knock on Green Team’s door triggered a bout of frantic whispering and shuffling. She waited patiently and enjoyed the break from the halls’ preternatural quiet. Ever since winter had fallen in earnest, the castle had become grave and brooding.

“Who is it?” Jasminka called sweetly.

“It’s me.” Then, unsure about how the familiarity would land, she added, “Diana.”

The whispering and shuffling intensified. Diana wondered what illicit activity was going on, and if they realized she wasn’t a prefect anymore. Eventually, an unfamiliar voice said, “Oh, forget it. Come on in, Cavendish!”

The scene within was disappointingly mundane. Conjured drapes shrouded the windows and a stanbot sat on the top bunk, projecting a blank screen from its snout and letting a DVD spin on a raised finger. (Electronics were forbidden, but not even prefects took that rule seriously.) Jasminka and Constanze sat on the lower bunk, alongside a slender young man Diana didn’t immediately recognize. The coin dropped when they made eye contact.

“Is that you, A—?” _Wrong question._ “Ah, hello. How shall I address you?”

“Going by Darius, for now.” He raised his hands in a sarcastic _Ta-Da_. “Short-term shapeshifting. I’m just trying this, uh, _everything_ on. Probably just gonna stick to changing my outfits after it wears off. The voice is the weirdest part, though you’d expect it to be my…”

“It’s good to see you, then, Darius,” Diana said. “I’ll be quick and let you get back to your movie. I just came to thank you – all three of you – for looking after me during the recent incident. For carrying me to safety, and for protecting and healing me while I was vulnerable. If possible, I would like to repay you.”

Green Team shared a look and Diana realized that she may have made a terrible mistake.

“You could look the other way if you catch me out after hours,” Darius suggested.

“I won’t be able to do that,” D1iana replied, then continued over his snort. “Because I won’t be patrolling anymore. The Headmistress released me from those duties yesterday.”

“Oh, huh. I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Thank you, but I’m rather looking forward to getting more sleep.”

“Alright. Hey, that gives me a better idea!” Darius stood, startling Diana a step back. The two of them were still the same height, but he _felt_ bigger. Confidence, maybe? “I’ll bet you’d be pretty handy in a heist! Ah, ah, don’t worry, I think you’ll like this one. I heard the rumor about how you tried to stick up for the fairies, and there’s more stuff in the vaults that they really oughta have. Especially if the old bats get rid of those collector things…”

Diana felt a cold thrill at the idea, not entirely unpleasant. “You gave the Ley Spike to the fairy workers, I assume?”

“Yeah, I mean, what was _I_ going to do with it? Anyway, Wangari just sent me a lead on some magic mirrors in one of the off-campus vaults – Conz says she can design like a sunbathing booth fairies can use to charge up, but Wangari thinks the fairies already know what to do with ‘em. Either way, the security looks like a ton of fun, and if we beat it, maybe the fairies don’t have to rely on the magic the school gives them.”

“That sounds splendid!” Diana cried, then continued more softly as Darius gestured her down. “I would be happy to help, though I’ll confess I’m a novice at infiltration. And Constanze…?”

Constanze held up a whiteboard. _Let me teach you about magitronics._

“That sounds more like you doing me a favor, but I accept. I find the topic more interesting now that I’ve _been_ a magitronic device.” Constanze’s marker bounced off of her forehead, and the little engineer expertly caught it on the rebound to write her reply: the word _DEVICE,_ repeatedly crossed out. “Ah. Your point is well taken.”

Constanze nodded sternly and settled back.

“I don’t want anything,” Jasminka said, then chuckled. “Oh, you’re pouting.”

Diana was. How embarrassing. _Hopefully, I’ll be better at keeping a lid on this when I’ve recovered more…_

“You’d already repaid me,” Jasminka explained. “You came out to face me, not knowing what you’d find, and led me home. It wasn’t a transaction, anyway. If you really still want to do something for me, you’ll just have to be my friend. You’ll get lots of opportunities, then!”

The tension in Diana’s chest released. “Very well, then that’s what I’ll do. Thank you.”

“Would you like to join us for movie night?” Jasminka asked. “If it’s okay with the others.”

Darius looked like he was going to object, but then Constanze said, out loud, “Okay.”

“Shit, I guess you’re one of the family,” Darius said. “Have a seat, then!”

It felt rude to decline, so Diana squeezed in next to Jasminka as Constanze stood on the edge of the bed and got the stanbot to play. “What are we watching?”

“The film adaptation of _Warlocks of the Sigil!_ ” Darius said as the projector came to life and music swelled softly.

“I don’t believe I’m familiar.”

“And here I thought you were cultured! Okay, so, it’s about this kid named Quinn who’s training to be a…”

Constanze grumbled and he shut up.

The movie seemed competently made, though Diana always had a hard time following fantasy stories. Constanze took a dim view of anyone talking during the movie, so she just nestled up to Jasminka and did her best to follow along. Eventually, Jasminka spread her arms behind the group and Diana found that a tiny part of her was desperately gobbling the warm contact up. She let her head rest against Jasna’s shoulder and drifted off to sleep as Darius threw a handful of popcorn at the screen. “They made Tsalir a _girl?_ What about their romance with Quinn?”

The next thing she knew, she was tucked into bed with Jasminka snoring in the bunk above and Darius stretched out in Constanze’s bed across from her. She scrambled to her feet and cast about in abject embarrassment. _Oh, very clever. I disrupted their evening and then snored all through their—wait._ Diana closed her eyes. _They didn’t see fit to wake me. I likely wasn’t too much of an imposition. I’ll just have to make the best of it._

She conjured a slip of paper with a silent flick of her wand and started to write by moonlight.

“Are you writing us a polite little note?” Darius asked lightly. His body had shifted back, but it wouldn’t do to assume _he_ had. “Get outta here, you dork. If it was such a big deal, we’d’ve kicked you out. See you around, alright?”

“Ah—v-very well. Good night.”

Diana had to catch her breath outside; navigating the interaction without an expected script had her nerves jangling, but it’d gone well enough. She stole through the halls, right past a patrolling Verochka, who just gave her a wave. There was some temptation to double back to scold her for not disciplining a student out late, but Diana decided that she’d be getting in enough trouble before long.

* * *

Wednesday saw the sun rising on a carpet of fresh snow, though it wouldn’t stick for long. Lotte woke ravenously hungry, almost enough to blow more money at the commissary, but she restrained herself to some meatloaf and potatoes ( _always_ potatoes) from the dining hall and settled in to watch the students pass through. It was a shame their break was almost over; she was finally starting to wind down.

She scanned the room for any of her fellows, particularly Wangari. She hadn’t seen the reporter around since the weekend, and she was starting to… _oh no._ Only one member of the ten was present, and it was Barbara, marching over with her tray. Lotte had just a moment to compose herself before they made contact.

“Hey, Lotte, I uh…” Barbara trailed off, shuffling her feet. “I was thinking about our conversation in the elevator. I said I didn’t know what I should apologize for first, and I guess it’s _everything._ Y’know, I think I was projecting when I called you invisible – never mind, that’s not the point. I’ve been an unbelievable shit to you, and I’m going to stop now. I don’t – Hannah said you’d think I was fishing if I said this, but you can say whatever you want.”

“Alright,” Lotte said tonelessly. “Thank you.”

Barbara wavered, unsure whether to leave.

“I don’t know what to say,” Lotte continued. “I gave that speech about trusting and supporting each other, but you’re right about being an unbelievable shit. And it hit harder on Saturday because you… meant something different to me. No matter how you act now, I can’t forget that.”

“I should leave you alone, probably,” Barbara said. “But I did have a bit of news for you, because I remembered that you were a _Night Fall_ fan. Can I tell you before I go?”

“Go ahead.”

“Avery just told me that her covenmate – Mary, you know, the film buff – wants to shoot an amateur adaptation of the first volume of _Night Fall!_ Starlight Revue-style, all girls. It’ll be real small potatoes, obviously, but it made me think of you because I know _just_ who you could play.”

“Who?” Lotte asked guardedly.

“Belle, of course.”

“The main character?”

“You have that uberfemme first-act Disney Princess energy, so you’d be great at playing her in the first arc, and… well, we saw you can do her heroic side, too, if Mary ever does a sequel. Oh, and Mary said she’s not gonna make it steamy, so don’t worry. It’ll just fade to black for the sex scene in chapter 7.”

“Aw, I liked that scene,” Lotte said without thinking, then blushed. “B-but that’s smart of her. Thanks for letting me know, Barbara. Maybe I’ll try out for a part. Will you?”

“Nah. I thought about it, but who would I even play?”

“You’d make a good Consuela the Witch.”

Barbara staggered and clutched her heart. “And the fangs come out! My well-deserved comeuppance! Remember me as I was!”

“Wha—? I _like_ Consuela!” Lotte cried. “That was a compliment, sort of!”

“You do? _Why?_ She spends the whole volume bullying poor Arthur…”

“Bullying? Arthur was an arrogant blowhard back then! She set him straight!”

“Are you joking?” Barbara pulled up a chair, plunked down, and their meals went cold as they argued the finer points of _Night Fall’s_ first arc. They got a little heated as they discovered their opposed interpretations of nearly every single character, but somehow Barbara’s insults and incredulity didn’t feel cruel. They were approaching each other as equals, more or less.

“Well, at least we can agree on Shemp,” Lotte said, then poked at her meatloaf. “Oh. I forgot all about this. I wonder if they’d let me get more…”

Barbara looked to the room’s clock in surprise, then asked, with studied casualness, “Tell me, Lotte: are we actually having a pleasant conversation, or are you just putting up with me until I leave you alone?”

Lotte’s enthusiasm crashed. The answer seemed obvious, but hearing the question made her unsure. “I haven’t decided. This was fun, but I’m still on pins and needles. Did you just decide to be nice to us, or are you going to quit bullying people at all?”

“I haven’t decided yet, either.” Barbara stood and pattered her hands on the back of the chair. “But y’know… if I really am a Consuela, maybe I can stick to arrogant blowhards! No shortage around here.”

“Just be sure to warn Diana,” Lotte said, then gasped and covered her mouth.

Barbara laughed out loud. “More of that, please!”

Lotte didn’t have time to decide if she was irritated or flattered before Barbara strode off. _Wait, don’t I owe her a dessert?_ She looked down at her meatloaf, sighed, then took a few token bites before deciding to sneak out and get something nicer in town. _I’ll see if the others are interested._

Sucy was the only one home when she arrived, hunched over her Doomcap’s terrarium and delicately tweezing bugs back onto it. “There, see?” she murmured. “You idiots were worried for nothing. I was just cleaning it up for you.”

The bugs chittered gratefully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sucy said, then turned her head. “Oh, hey, Lotte.”

Maybe she was just keyed up from the Barbara encounter, but Lotte was feeling proactive. She marched over and laid her hands on Sucy’s shoulders, then moved closer to turn it into a light embrace. _What am I doing?_

“Hmm,” Sucy said, glancing down. Lotte could feel her tense.

“Um… is this okay?”

“It’s fine.” Sucy relaxed and leaned her head back against Lotte’s chest. “Your heart is really pounding.”

“I… had something I wanted to say, but it can wait.”

“For what? Might as well, right?”

“Well, um, do you want to go to town and get something to eat? It’s meatloaf today in the dining hall, and I know you don’t…”

“Sure, let’s go, but that’s not what you’re worried about.” Sucy gently reached up and laid cold, slender hands over Lotte’s wrists, arresting a move to pull away. “I’m curious.”

“I was also wondering if…” Lotte buried her face in the chamomile-scented hair pooling on Sucy’s shoulder. “Oh, this is so embarrassing!”

Sucy rubbed Lotte’s wrists with her thumbs.

“You don’t need blood anymore,” Lotte said. “But I was wondering if you’d want to try nibbling on me again, to see if you like it.” She clutched harder and squirmed, awaiting judgment.

“Ease up a little,” Sucy said. “I need to see you.”

Lotte started to dart back and Sucy spun in her chair, catching her by the elbow with the sweep of a long arm. She stood awkwardly with Sucy lightly holding her elbow, then minced forward a few tiny steps. Sucy looked her up and down, and delicately set her hands on Lotte’s hips. There they paused, Sucy looking up calmly, Lotte red-faced and trembling.

“You’re like a hummingbird,” Sucy observed. “And I thought _I_ was scared.”

Akko opened the door, took the scene in, and closed it without entering.

They burst out laughing. 

“Oh no,” Lotte said, gasping for breath. “I wonder what she thinks we were doing!”

“I wonder what we’re _actually_ doing,” Sucy replied, and, with a curious expression, tugged Lotte a little closer. “Is this what you were talking about out there in space? Wanting to share yourself? Discovering the new kind of love, or however that _Night Fall_ quote went?”

“Um, um,” Lotte said. Her composure had crumbled when their knees touched. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” Sucy considered for a moment. “Is it a horny thing?”

“Sucyyyy…” Lotte felt like she was sealed in a furnace with her embarrassment, but Sucy was being so mellow and accepting… her voice creaked as she said, very softly, “It could be. It doesn’t have to be. The nibbling was just a suggestion.”

“I don’t know if I feel the way you do,” Sucy said. “I don’t know if I _can_. But I like making you happy, when I can manage it. And I especially like…” she tugged again, and Lotte fell into her lap with a squeak. “…messing with you. Maybe that’s enough?”

Suddenly, there was only one thing on Lotte’s mind. “Can I kiss you?”

Sucy looked startled, but only for a moment. “Sure.”

Lotte didn’t know what to expect, or even hope for. While Sucy’s hands were cold, her lips were warm, and her technique – well, it _seemed_ like a good kiss. Firm, anyway. Before she could get much more of an impression, her stomach growled loudly.

Sucy started snickering into her lips and then thumped her forehead into Lotte’s shoulder. “Let’s get to town before you starve to death,” she said. “We got rid of Akko, so we can take our time at figuring all this out. Also, we should find a place away from the peanut gallery, here.”

The bugs chittered.

“O-okay.” Lotte stood unsteadily. “That was… huh…”

“I’m no Edgar, but maybe I can learn.” Sucy stood and offered her arm. “I’m craving curry. Let’s go.”

* * *

“Well!” Barbara said to herself, trotting along the east hall. She wasn’t going anywhere in particular, but she needed to move. Nor did she have anything in particular to say, but she wasn’t used to wandering around alone and hearing a voice helped. “That went pretty well!”

Better than she had any right to expect, really. Far better than she deserved. A hot, unfamiliar feeling tingled in her fingertips and cheeks: shame.

“No, don’t—” Barbara drew to a stop and let out an annoyed breath. _Stop_ talking _to yourself and don’t think like that. Do you want everyone to think you’re crazy?_ She looked around, but there were only two or three students in sight, and none were paying her any mind. 

The shame was fading, thankfully, but it would be back. A semester of hilarious insults was turning into a cringeworthy parade of reasons not to like her. Everything she’d defined herself by, all the people she’d held herself above, now stood as an accusation. _I wonder if Jasminka’s evil queen felt this way?_ she wondered, then couldn’t help but giggle. _That’s me: a real Maleficent! Tremble before my middle-school insults!_

Half of the reason for her unease was scribbled on a business card in her pocket, a little secret she was holding on to for now. She'd slipped away from blue team to schedule her first appointment with the school counselor. Dr. Ose had given her a bit of homework in that first crystal ball call: she just had to pay attention to her own thoughts and feelings, and keep a journal, if she was up to it.

That was fine, as long as Diana or Hannah was there to distract her. Alone, it made her feel off-balance and a little scared, like she was clattering around in a bad pair of heels. Barbara rested her fingers on her temples and focused on her breath. One, two, three… when she opened her eyes, she saw Hannah coming down the stairs, and a good two thirds of her discomfort vanished.

“Hey, Barb,” Hannah called, waving a paper bag. A heavenly scent wafted out. “Is everything…?”

“What’s in the bag?” Barbara interrupted, abruptly remembering her wasted lunch.

Hannah produced half of a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and held it out. “Here, take some. Jasminka invited me to this cooking club thing out of the blue. I know it’s just a sandwich, but the complicated part was the marinade on the…”

“You’re cooking with Jasminka now?” Barbara asked through a delicious mouthful of sliced beef and peppers. Honey, garlic, and something tangy danced on her tongue, distracting her from… _What, I’m_ jealous? _Is that what that is? Knock it off, Barb, jeez!_ “Howshat going?”

“I had fun, honestly. I wasn’t sure about it, but Jasna insisted. It’s like she just decided the ten of us are all best friends now… or maybe she was just testing the water with me.” Hannah finished her half and licked her fingers. “You should’ve tasted hers, though. She’s an _amazing_ cook, and I don’t think she even uses magic!”

Barbara started to reply, but the first thing that came to mind was a nasty play on ‘never trust a thin chef,’ which she obviously wasn’t going to embarrass herself by saying. _Another crack on Jasminka’s weight? That’s shitty of me._ She staved off a guilt spiral and let her joke disappear in a few savage bites at the sandwich. _There! Just do that a hundred more times, and I’ll be set._

Hannah cocked her head.

“No, I just…” Barbara sputtered. “Thanks for the food. It’s _meatloaf_ in the cafeteria today, can you believe it?” She affected a melodramatic, Consuela-ish voice. (Maybe she _should_ audition, at that.) “You’re my harbor in a storm!”

Hannah’s eyes flicked away awkwardly. “The way you looked at me just now… I sorta got that feeling. Uh, is everything okay, Barb?”

Barbara hesitated on her answer. She fingered the card in her pocket. _I’m keeping a secret from Hannah. What the hell?_ “I’m… I think everything’s okay, yeah. I’m going to find out, soon, maybe. I’ve just been trying to think more, and it’s hard.”

Hannah made a soft “hm” sound, not quite a laugh.

“It’s like I’ve been drifting around like a jellyfish, doing whatever brainless thing I feel like, just…” She flapped her hands to either side. A passing student yelped and veered around her, but she barely noticed. “And when I try to pay attention to what I do, or what I’m feeling, it’s… unfamiliar. Like I’m not even sure who I am. When I was with the ghost, I didn’t even notice anything all that weird, until Amanda punched me. I was a whole different person, and I barely noticed! Isn’t that weird? Maybe it's that alexi-thing Diana told us about, that one time?”

“Amanda punched you?” Hannah cried.

“Don’t worry, I deserved it.”

“Barb!”

“I didn’t feel a thing. Look, don’t worry about it; we worked it out. It’s not the point.” Barbara stumbled on her next thought. _“Why are you so worked up? What do you see in me, anyway?”_ She wondered if Hannah would have an answer, and suddenly she was afraid to find out. “Look, it-it’s really not bad. I feel fine. I just have some stuff to think about, and I’m not used to…” She fell quiet as Hannah hugged her.

“Sorry,” Hannah said under her breath. “I trust you. I just don’t know what I’d do if… if something bad did happen to you.”

“We saw, didn’t we?” Barbara slipped her arms around Hannah’s waist. They’d been all over each other lately, but it seemed like they had a new reason every time they met. Something that had been rattling coldly in her chest, unnoticed, now stilled. Her fear was still there, but it did soften and fade. “We know you’d pull through.”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m not a badass detective. I’m just a… just… never mind. Whatever I am, for whatever it’s worth, I’m here for you.”

“It’s worth everything, dummy,” Barbara said. She crunched up as much as she could to let Hannah enfold her. “God, first Diana, and now me. You’re just holding us together, huh? But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Even if this _Claiomh Solais_ business goes wrong, even if Diana leaves us, you’re stuck with me. I’m not gonna go investigating drug rings, or whatever. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hannah said. She squeezed sharply, then added, “You’ll tell me if it gets bad, right?”

“I promise.” Barbara’s hands started roving over Hannah’s shoulders. She stood taller and let her lips brush Hannah’s ear. “But right now, I’m feeling pretty far from bad. In fact, I think—”

“ _Ahem._ ”

They jolted apart and turned to face Professor Finneran. “You _have_ rooms, you know,” the professor said acidly. She glowered down on them for a few seconds, but perhaps she was feeling merciful, because she stalked off instead of assigning them to potato peeling duty.

Once she was safely out of sight, Hannah and Barbara shared a smirk.

“By the way, Diana’s tutoring Irene until 1,” Hannah said idly. “We’ll have the room to ourselves.”

“Good,” Barbara replied, and the two broke into a jog for home, where she could finish her thought in private.

* * *

Akko sat on the edge of the school’s broom launch platform as the moon came out and the snowfall grew heavier. The sun was setting so early these days that she had no idea what time it was anymore. There was just so much to think about, and so much more to avoid thinking about. Just as the cold started to pierce her cloak, she heard a soft footstep behind her.

“Here to tow me back in?” Akko asked.

“No,” Diana said from the doorway. “Would you like to be alone?”

“Don’t care, really.” Akko turned back and beckoned. “Nah, I’m sorry. It’d be nice to have some company. C’mon over.”

“As you wish,” Diana said, crossing the platform with measured steps and sitting carefully next to her. “This is dangerous, you know.”

“I live dangerously,” Akko said, kicking her legs over the snowy dark. “Are you doing alright? Pulling through?”

“Yes, I believe so. And you?”

“I _don’t_ believe it, but somehow I am, yeah.”

The wind howled as they watched moonlight play over the forest. Akko cast a few speculative glances Diana’s way, but didn’t say anything about the strange week they’d had, the lovely sky, or the zit on her chin. It was a rare treat to have someone she could enjoy being quiet with. Would the feeling last? She hoped so.

“I’m going to ask you a personal question,” Diana said after a time. “And you don’t have to answer. I will drop the subject if you don’t want to discuss it. Is that alright?”

“Um, sure.” Akko gave her a tired smile. “Nothing personal if I can’t answer, though. I feel like an ogre’s stepped on my brain, lately.”

“Of course.” Diana looked out into the night, clouds above, trees below. “Have you… lost anyone? Maybe when you were younger?”

“Huh?”

“The troubles that you’ve been having with magic – I’ll confess that I didn’t give them much thought, even as I came to know you better. But I once experienced something similar. In my case, it was bereavement. I lost someone important to me, and for years after, I struggled with even the simplest spells, as though the magic had been drained from my body.”

“Oh, no!” Akko cried, eyes flying wide. “That’s awful!”

“Don’t – Akko, don’t cry. Please. It’s okay.” Diana paused to confirm that Akko was back on an even keel, then continued. “I just wondered if that was something we had in common.”

“Huh, well, my grandma passed away a few years ago, but we were ready for… wait a second.” Akko shook her head and her mood completely changed. “I’m gonna ask you a _weird_ question, but I promise it’s not just me being obsessed. I have a point. Alright?”

“I’m listening.”

Akko corralled her thoughts for a moment. “You forgot yourself and called the, uh, Something- _Solais_ the Shiny Rod when we were fighting the Noir Rod. Does that mean you were a fan of Shiny Chariot?”

“Yes, when I was younger.” Diana’s lips twitched like she wanted to continue.

“And did you attend a show of hers back home – my home – about eight years ago?”

“Yes. I suppose you were there, too?”

Akko coughed out a laugh, but only because she had no idea how else to react. “Okay. Um, so this sneaked up on me! Sorry for laughing, sorry. Did you have to practice a whole bunch to get your magic back, doing the same spells over and over and over?”

Diana’s brow furrowed. “That’s correct. How did you…?”

“Then Chariot knew what to do. She had me doing the right thing.” Akko’s sigh came out in a big silvery puff of steam. “I think something different might’ve happened to your magic. The same thing that happened to me.”

“At that show?” Diana asked. “Something happened to you at the Shiny Chariot show in your homeland?”

“Yup.”

“The timing is right, but… hm.” Diana’s bangs hid her eyes. “I hope that it’s not the case, for me. After I started to recover, the loss of my magic became something of a comfort.”

Akko’s face screwed up in confusion. “Comfort?”

“I’ve always had difficulty understanding my own emotions. I suppose I appreciated having the confirmation that my grief was real. If what you’re telling me is true… and I trust you, Akko… it upends a story I’d always believed about myself.”

“Well, that’s something we’ll have in common.” Akko stood and offered Diana a hand up. “Here, we should be doing this in a more comfortable place. Let’s head to the kitchen and sneak some cocoa, and I’ll tell you about it.”

* * *

Joanna had used a tactical puppy eye strike to convince the rest of Yellow Team to join her on a wilderness photography trip, and Kim’s contacts among the prefects would ensure they wouldn’t get in trouble for returning after curfew. After an hour of stomping around the forest looking for interesting pictures in the bitter cold, Wangari discovered that it was more relaxing than anything else she’d tried.

If only Kimberly had gotten the memo.

“I can see how your spell’s _supposed_ to work,” Kim said doubtfully, resting against their trail pack with a diagram of the Pseudo Dimension Drive spell. “But you’d need a weird catalyst to complete the circle. I can’t think of any material that would work. Did you make this just as a thought experiment, or…?” Wangari tossed her the multitool and she held it up to the light. “Wha-no, this? You just _have_ this? Are you kidding me?”

“I haven’t figured out how to use it as a tool yet, but it should work as the catalyst.”

Kimberly tossed the multitool back. “So we can travel to other dimensions now?”

“I guess so.” Wangari knelt and took a picture of stubborn red flower bending under a clump of powdery snow, then flicked the snow off.

“And we’re not… travelling to other dimensions _right now?_ ” Kimberly prodded.

“It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you just do,” Wangari said, standing. “Believe me, I am _burning up_ with curiosity about what’s out there, but we need a place to go, and a reason to go there. If we just hop out to wherever, wouldn’t that be ridiculously dangerous? For us _and_ the people wherever we went? The Sandpiper jumps all over because it’s a part of her, but I have to be more, what do you call it, _discerning_. I can maybe tune the spell so we can explore without causing too much havoc, but I’m not just sticking my head into the Everyone’s a Dragon dimension for the hell of it, you know?”

“How witchlike,” Kim sighed. “I wish you were more of a hellion sometimes.”

“Besides,” Joanna said, rejoining them, “Wangari might be thinking about _responsibilities she has here._ ” That last was said pointedly nudging Kim with her boot.

Kimberly groaned and took up her camera. She always hated the pictures she took, no matter how well they turned out.

“The paper would be fine for a weekend,” Wangari said. “I always scramble to get everything done right before we put out an issue anyway.”

Joanna swatted her arm. “I don’t mean the paper, I mean the ‘waking up magic’ thing! Didn’t you say that the _Claiomh Solais_ might pick one of you guys to take the next test?”

“Oh, that.” Wangari wandered back to their pack for a candy bar. “I’m not worried about that.”

“It could be you!” Joanna insisted.

“No, I’m _obviously_ not one of the New Nine. There were ten of us, and I was the odd one out! I’ll just stick to what I— _aaagh!”_ Wangari reeled back from the pack and fell on her butt.

Joanna and Kimberly had trained their wands on the pack, but relaxed when she stood, dusting herself off. 

“What was _that?_ ” Kimberly asked.

“A pang of existential terror?” Joanna suggested.

Wangari flipped the top of the pack open to reveal the glinting crest of the Shiny Rod. “A stowaway. I _distinctly_ remember Akko walking away with this thing as we were leaving.”

“Oh, that’s creepy,” Joanna said.

“Neat,” Kimberly added, snapping a picture of Wangari regarding the Shiny Rod.

“Yeah,” Wangari said, taking the artifact up. Light coursed through the stones and it hummed in her hand, eager to change. She was still bone-tired, but as she held the key to magic’s return and wondered what would come next, she couldn’t help but smile. “Neat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! If you made it this far, let me know what you think.
> 
> In particular, I'm thinking there's still room for some structural improvements. This super-long marathon chapter is the result of not wanting multiple chapters after the Bars go home, but also having so much to wrap up. After trying to balance 10-20 main characters (depending on how you count the visitors), I have a little more sympathy for the show's writers. It's still a crime that we didn't get a Jasna episode, though...
> 
> That'll be a concern for future projects, though. Thank you for joining me!


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